Counting Stars
by SausageLink43
Summary: Following the tragedy of his uncle's murder, Link is left with nothing — until he awakens one morning with inhuman abilities. His heart set on vengeance, Link isolates his feelings from the world, honing his strengths and correcting his weaknesses. But when he's offered a fresh start at Hyrule Academy, can a beautiful blonde student help him forget his troubles? AU ZeLink
1. Optimist

**Heyo! I am BACK, son! So, I've been dying to write this story after seeing "The Amazing Spider-Man" (it kinda serves as an inspiration, but whatever) and I've finally written it. That movie's good by the way. I don't typically like superhero movies, but this one stood out.**

**Aaaaaanyway, this story might not be as long as my other ones, "Legend of Zelda: Shadow Agent" and "Zelda: Skyward Sword - The Birth of Hyrule"; I'm expecting this to be fifteen to twenty chapters at the most. By the way, I hope you check out my other stories; if you like this, you'll like the others.**

**This AU has absolutely NO connection to my other AU, "Shadow Agent". The latter is a post-apocalyptic kingdom overrun by a tyrant. Here, that is simply not the case.**

**The theme song for this story is, you guessed it, "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic. It's also the story title. Oh, I guess you already knew that… Anyway, I'm going to go with a common piece of symbolism in this story: STARS REPRESENT GOOD FORTUNE. Memorized it? Good.**

**(To the readers of my other stories: I will not give song suggestions this time.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything regarding The Legend of Zelda. I wish I did.**

**Please enjoy, and please let me know what you think!**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 1: Optimist**

* * *

Wednesday, October 4

Small orbs of light peek through the dark sky, humbled by the moon's immensity in comparison. My back rests against the brick chimney of our roof, and my cobalt-blue eyes pale in the white light of the stars. I let out a contented sigh, easily finding the constellation of the Sheikah eye_-_\- truthfully, it is the only one I am able to decipher. Nonetheless, I maintain my gaze at the sheer majesty of the night sky and all that is beyond it.

Some kids have it all. They live in the big city of Castle Town, eating crumpets or caviar or whatever those pretentious snobs eat. Their parents are typically CEOs or big-time actors, basking in glory and rolling in mounds of rupees. They get to attend private schools, get really smart, then go off to a university and become exactly like their parents_-_\- rich, pretentious snobs.

Me? Well, I live alone with my uncle in Ordonia, the so-called "redneck" town of Hyrule. Rusl, my uncle, is a herder at the local ranch, where he makes a decent salary to keep us both on our feet, then comes home and begins to home school me_-_\- since, of course, Ordonia is far too poor to construct their own public school. In our town, the parents have come to a tacit agreement: home school their kids. Because sending them to another town for school would require too much money, it simply isn't an option. My uncle and I are what you'd call "middle class"- contradicting to the other residents of Ordonia, who are labeled as the "lower class."

An I jealous of these pretentious snobs? No, of course not. See, Rusl always says, "We all have problems, but some of us choose to look up at the stars." That's what I live by; for example, I'm not financially secure, but at least I have money. I don't attend any public school, but at least I'm decently smart. Even the snobs of Castle Town have problems; I'm sure of it. But the typical nature of those who get exactly what they want is, unfortunately, that they don't look up at the stars. And, frankly, they'd have to be blind not to see the millions of stars in their skies.

Optimism is key.

Though this town is, according to the rich folk, a "run-down, rat-infested hell hole," I cannot deny the fact that I enjoy it here. Everyone here is kind_-_\- you don't get that in Castle Town; those people are only concerned about themselves. I have many friends in Ordonia, despite not going to school together. All are genuine, benign souls.

Speaking of which, I hear a voice to my right. "Hey, Link!" I swivel my head to the large house of my neighbor, who is coincidentally the mayor, where I see Ilia, the mayor's daughter, standing on her own roof. Ilia is a sweet girl; tonight she wears a simple white tank, despite the late-night chill, a pair of brown pants, and no shoes. Her hair is a light brown, hugging the back if her head and neck in a pixie cut. She's actually fairly attractive, but I've been friends with her too long to have romantic feelings for her.

I wave my hand, motioning for her to join me on my roof. "Come on over."

"'Kay." One short leap later, Ilia softly lands on my roof, her bare feet nearly slipping on the smooth shingles. I scoot over, making room for her to sit next to me against the chimney. Once sitting, Ilia smiles and looks up at the stars, then turns to smile at me. "Beautiful, yeah?"

I smirk and playfully quip, "Thank you."

"Not you, Link." Ilia lightly punches my arm, to which I laugh. "The stars."

Sighing, I return my gaze to the sky. "…You ever wonder what's up there?"

"Birds," she says. I roll my eyes as she laughs.

"Other than birds. I mean… do you believe in the golden goddesses?"

Ilia nods. "Of course. How else do you explain our existence?"

I shrug. "I wonder if we'll ever come into contact with the goddesses themselves, y'know?"

"Maybe someday we will."

We sit there in silence for a while, content, our shining eyes exploring the vast assortment of twinkling orbs.

The brief silence is now broken. "Link, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," I tease. She rolls her eyes. "Okay, what is it?"

"Why do you hang out on the roof every night?"

Ah, the question that has plagued my mind since the beginning of the habit itself. In truth, my reason for this is that I like to see the stars. Even when the stars don't shine, I know they're always there. It's comforting, really; sometimes I like to think of them as my parents or maybe even the goddesses watching me from the realm they rest in. While a part of me says I'm just getting my hopes up with these childish thoughts, I know for a fact that it's good to be optimistic_-_\- though, as someone once said, optimists always get let down.

Sagging my shoulders a little, I shift my gaze from Ilia to the perpetual night sky once more; after having those thoughts, I can't bring myself to face her. I shrug and say to her, "It's quiet up here. Calm."

She nods, but she's skeptical; nonetheless, she doesn't press the matter. We both know it's a touchy subject, why I sit up here_-_\- me more so than her, that is. I figure she'd caught on a while ago, assuming it had to do with my deceased mother and father.

"…Link?"

"Yeah?"

Ilia bites her bottom lip nervously, slowly forming words. "Well… it's just that you look really sad right now."

I hadn't realized it, but my eyes are wet. "Oh. I'm fine, really. It's probably just the light's reflection." It isn't.

Ilia sighs, then pats my shoulder with a sad smile. "It's getting late. Unlike you, I have to get up early for school. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay, Link?" Due to my uncle's daytime shift at the ranch, I get my schooling in the evening, leaving me with free time during the day. Most of my friends are envious, saying they wish their parents let them be schooled at night. Their parents refuse, however, due to their shifts typically being in the afternoon.

I nod at Ilia. "Okay. Bye." She smiles and turns around, leaping back onto her own roof with enough grace to barely make a sound. As she descends into her bedroom window on the far side from where I sit, I shoot one last longing glance at the stars above me. Then, releasing a heavy sigh, I make my way to the right side of the roof, gripping the gutter and carefully swinging my legs into the large, open window, which leads to my bedroom.

My room isn't anything special; it's just made up of essentials. Lying in the corner is my bed, covered by one simple green blanket. My closet is located on the wall across from my bed, which, obviously, holds my clothes and other garments. There's a miniature basketball hoop hanging from the door, which I play when I'm bored. I have a bookshelf in another corner, which breaks off into a desk that ends to the left of the window; I placed it there so I'd be able to access the roof without having to worry about the desk getting in my way. On my desk are simple items: a framed picture of me and Rusl at the ranch, a few crumpled up candy wrappers, my FiPhone_-_\- which, after three months of working with Rusl at the ranch, I paid for with my own money_-_-, a small stuffed Loftwing, and a blue instrument called an ocarina.

Yawning, I check my wristwatch, blinking to clear my blurred vision. It's eleven fifty-three. I disrobe from my usual attire_-_\- green hoodie, dark jeans, and green Vans_-_\- and change into a simple white tank and a pair of shorts. Hopping into bed, I stare up at the ceiling, but I'm unable to sleep.

Sometimes I wish my parents were here. Not that I don't like Rusl; I do, believe me. All my life, I've just felt… incomplete_-_\- like I deserve more than just one family member, a few friends and a "hell hole" of a town. It probably sounds very selfish, but everyone gets greedy at least once; everyone gets jealous at least once. You could be the moon and still be jealous of the stars.

…The stars.

I clear my mind of these thoughts, knowing that I am still more fortunate than some. Finally, I shut my eyes, allowing a wave of content to wash over me, and I drift off to sleep.

* * *

Thursday, October 5

My eyes snap open, senses alerted. I hear some banging noise_-_\- I turn to the window. A small shadow comes from behind the blinds every now and then, and an object hits the glass. Cautiously, I draw the blinds, pulling them upward, spilling the light of dawn in my bedroom. On the ground stands Talo Brown, waving at me with one hand, a pile of pebbles in the other. I smile, then open the window. "What are you doing?" I look at his feet, where I spot a round, orange ball resting casually.

"Wanna play some basketball, Link?" Talo asks with a crooked grin. "I challenged you to a game of one-on-one, remember?" Talo's always aspired to become a basketball player; he's not the smartest, so he hopes his basketball skills will give him a scholarship to a college. He's fifteen, two years younger than me_-_\- and frankly, he's pretty good for his age.

"Alright," I tell him. "Meet me at the court. I'll be there in five."

Talo nods, offers me a two-finger salute, then turns to head off down the street.

I head to my closet to find some athletic clothes to change into. Eager to get in the day's workout, I pick out a pair of black Nike shorts, a green "Celtics" tee, and a pair of black Nike elite socks with green stripes. After changing into said attire, I exit my bedroom and enter a hallway that has Rusl's room on one side, the bathroom on the other; the hallway breaks off into two more rooms, the kitchen to the left and the living room to the right. I head into the bathroom, performing my typical morning routine, then enter the kitchen for breakfast.

Rusl sits at the table, much to my surprise, reading a Hyrule Times newspaper and munching on a piece of toast. "Ah, good morning, Link. You're up early."

I don't usually see my uncle in the morning; he's always at the ranch. "Uh, what are you doing home?"

Rusl chuckles. "I don't go to work until seven, Link. It's six." My eyes widen and I check my wristwatch. He's right. "Talo woke you up early?"

I nod. It's a pretty common occurrence, me being waken up by Talo to play basketball_-_\- his mother makes starts their school session at nine o'clock, though, so it's usually at seven thirty in the morning. "Guess it's important," I say, popping a strawberry Pop-Tart in the toaster. I open the fridge and find a water bottle, then take out the recently-cooked pastry from the toaster. "Sorry that I can't visit you this morning," I tell my uncle.

Rusl just waves it off, a small smile painted above his trimmed beard. "It's no problem, Link. I'll see you at four."

I smile at him, find my pair of grey Air Jordan shoes, then exit the household. Rusl knows how much I enjoy basketball, so he makes sure I have decent gear, despite our financial situation. I promised him that I'll pay him off for it later, which I still intend to do, but Rusl just shrugged it off with a smile and a "It's no big deal."

Trudging down the pothole-infested road, I pass Ilia's house and other familiar residents' homes. They are all constructed the same_-_\- save the mayor's house, which has three stories, and sticks out like a sore thumb_-_\- with tall walls but small square footage, and roofs that point downward toward and away from the roads. The court is at the end of our road, located on the town's border, and it's no special sight to see, but it's better than nothing. It's dusty, cracked in several places, and has moss and other vegetation springing upward from within the cracks.

Squinting my eyes in the morning sun, I spot Talo, who sinks a jump shot. He turns his head and sees me, smirking. "Hey!" he calls.

"Why so early?"

He bounces the ball as I draw nearer. "I just want some extra practice. So, you ready to lose?" he quips.

I step on the court, which is shaded by trees, grinning. Talo looks up at me, the height difference only a few inches. "You can't stop LinkBron James."

Talo scoffs, pointing at my high-tops. "You're wearing Jordans."

"Close enough." I clap my hands together. "Now c'mon, let's play."

I step out to the three point line, and Talo bounces the ball to me. I dribble twice left, then cross over to my right as Talo guards me. Picking up the ball, I pump fake, causing Talo to jump. Then I step around him with one foot as he's still airborne, and I simply lay it into the hoop.

Talo steps out to the three point line, and I check the ball to him. He mocks me a bit, dribbling behind his back and between his legs as I stand there rolling my eyes. Talo always likes to put on a show, even when there's no crowd. I then try to swipe the ball from him, but he is too quick; as my legs separate, Talo bounces the ball between them, moves around me to retrieve the ball, then lays it in. Smirking, he punches the ball back to me with his fist as I stand at the three point line. "Didn't expect that, did ya?"

I smirk back, dribbling right this time. I push forward with two hard dribbles, causing Talo to back off me; I take the opportunity to step back to the three, sinking the ball in the hoop.

Talo raises his eyebrows at me as he retrieves the ball. "That was perfect form," he says. "Impressive."

"Would you expect anything less?"

The game continued for another hour; it was close at first, due to Talo's speedy ball handling and agile legs, but as the game progressed I pulled away because of my size advantage and my sick jump shot. The final score was twenty to eleven.

"Dang, you're good," Talo comments when I sit down on a nearby bench. He joins me there.

"Thanks, Talo." I grin, taking a swig of my water bottle.

"You've improved a lot. Why don't you try out for the Ordonia team?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm only seventeen. It's an adult league." Whenever people ask me that question, I always use that same excuse. Ordonia's team is the worst in the league of nearby towns, but that isn't my reason for not playing, either. Truthfully, I enjoy living a simple, humble life, and being part of a sports team would get in the way of that. Also, I don't own a car, and neither does Rusl, so the only way to be able to travel would be a bus, which would require me to pay for a pass. So I guess it all ties back to money.

"But the team had a sixteen-year-old one year!"

I laugh, "Yeah, but that guy was like, seven feet tall and had a beard thicker than James Harden's. He looked like he was thirty years old."

Talo shrugs, taking a sip of his own water bottle. "I don't think it'd matter, though. You should play! It would be a shame if you don't put those skills to use."

I shake my head. "I'm fine with just playing here." Talo sighs and looks out at the court. "How do you plan to get recognized?" I ask him suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"It's just that… you live all the way out here, in Ordonia, and don't play for a high school team_-_\- how will scouts notice you?"

"...I don't know. I guess I just have to hope for the best." He nods at me. "Maybe when I get older and grow a bit more, I can transfer to Lakeside and try out for the team."

"A _bit_ more?" I scoff. "Talo, you'll have to grow a foot to play for Lakeside. Their shortest player is six-four!" Lakeside is known as the powerhouse high school team, the best in the kingdom. Located next to Lake Hylia, it's also a rich kid school.

"Dad says I'll grow to five-eleven. Maybe if I'm good enough, I can be the _new_ shortest player." Talo grins at the thought.

I can't help but smile back at him, but before I can stop myself, I ask, "How will you afford it?" Right as the words leave my mouth, I regret them; money is a touchy subject.

"Lakeside is a public school," he says with a grin, "not private. It's free!"

"Okay, but you can't plan on commuting from here; that's like two hours_-_\- so how will you afford to live there?" Dammit, Link; stop asking these kinds of questions!

"My dad's gotta friend who lives there. Name's Renado. He offered to take me in if I wanted to go to Lakeside."

"Wow, that's nice of him," I say, still regretting my previous words.

"Yep." He starts to spin the basketball on his middle finger. "Hey, what time is it?"

"Um… eight fifty."

"Shoot… I gotta go to school now. See you, Link." He holds the ball at his hip, waving with his other hand as he leaves the court.

I wave back, then finish my water in one quick swig. Standing up, I look at the hoop once more. I know it's silly, but I've always wanted to dunk. I'm not that tall; only five-eleven, but I still want to. Deciding to test my vertical leap, I set my empty bottle down on the bench, then run toward the hoop. Once near it, I leap off of one foot, and I feel like my Jordan shoes have springs in them. I can grab the rim! After landing, I smile to myself, satisfied, then turn to leave the court.

* * *

"Link, I'm home!"

Sitting on the couch in the living room, I check my watch; it's four fifteen. I turn to greet Rusl, who hangs his coat on the rack and joins me on the couch. "Hey."

He smiles at me, offering me an Oreo with one extended hand. "Cookie?"

I know when Rusl goes out to buy me some Oreos, my favorite treat, something's up. Quizzically raising an eyebrow, I gingerly take one and take a miniscule bite; Rusl sits there, a suspiciously cheerful grin plastered on his face as he watches me chew once, twice, then swallow. In an accusative, monotone voice, I ask, "What do I have to do?"

Rusl chuckles, patting my shoulder. "Ah, nothing, my boy. I just wanted to give you your favorite treat."

I snort, raising both eyebrows this time. "Is that so?"

My uncle sighs, but a smile is distinguishable on his benign face. "Fine, fine. You see…, Fado asked me to accompany him while he takes some goats to the Castle Town commerce market, and I'm taking you with me."

Normally, I would voice my objections, but instead… "So I get to miss school?" I smile hopefully.

Rusl nods, standing up. "Yes, you can miss school."

I pump my fist in the air. Any other parent or guardian would make me go to another house so I don't miss my schooling. Rusl is the coolest. "Let's go," I say, not doing a very good job of hiding my grin. In all honesty, I'm excited. I've only been to Castle Town once, when I was nine, and it was for the same reason as today's. While it sucks that I'll have to deal with smelly goats while I'm in the city, I'll be able to see all the amazing buildings and lights that I saw as a child.

"Alright, Link." Rusl grins once more, tossing me a bag of ten more Oreo cookies. We leave the house and walk down the road toward the ranch, which is in the opposite direction of the basketball court.

Upon our arrival at the ranch, my nostrils are bombarded by the stench of goats_-_\- putrid, at first, but tolerable once becoming accustomed to it. The ranch consists of a stout, wooden cabin with a porch and smoky chimney_-_\- Mr. Wood's house_-_\- and a large space bordered by a wooden fence for the goats to roam in. A shed is located next to Fado's; that's where the goats go at night to protect them from wolves. It may seem petty to worry about a wolf present in Ordonia, but I've heard tales of such events.

I ring the bell on the fence gate, signaling our arrival. About fifteen yards away, the cabin door swings open, revealing a stocky man with sandy-brown hair and a white tank, dirtied slightly by the agricultural work that transpires here. His legs are concealed by_-_\- what appears to be a skirt_-_\- as he saunters over to us with a spring in his step. Clearly, Fado Wood is excited too. The gate swings inward, allowing us access, and then it shuts to keep the goats together. "How're the Gaidens doin'?" Fado asks with a thick country accent. Huh. It's no wonder Ordonia's called the redneck town.

Gaiden is my last name, by the way. Since Rusl was my father's brother, we share the surname.

"Ah, Link!" Fado greets. I smile politely, uneasily; he smells of goats. "Been quite a while, boy."

"Good to see you again, sir."

He then turns to Rusl, clapping a meaty hand on his shoulder. "Polite as ever, ain't he?"

_Heh, that's what you think._

"Shall we head out?" Rusl says, looking up at the sun.

Fado follows his gaze. "Yessir; evenin' is upon us. We must get there 'fore sundown."

Rusl nods, and I look past Fado into the ranch, where I can see an old Chevy pickup truck with a white trailer attached to the back. Through the widows I can spot several goats ramming against the steel walls, trying to escape their doom. They seem to know what's going down tonight.

"Head 'nto that truck over there," Fado says, pointing to the run-down hunk of junk. "I'll drive us."

We comply; Rusl enters the passenger seat and I sit in the seat behind him, my legs squashed by the tight space. Fado enters the truck, slamming the door once inside, causing the whole rickety truck to shake. He starts the ignition, and the truck releases a deafening, high-pitched squeak that nearly makes my ears bleed.

And just when I think things can't get _any_ worse…

"How 'bout a road trip song?" Fado exclaims. "Ooooh, one hundred bottles of…!"

_No._

I whip out my FiPhone, which, thankfully, I packed, and plug in my earphones. Instead of listening to Fado, I opt for some classic Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Thank Nayru for technology.

One painfully long road trip later, the sun is hidden behind a_-_\- oh my Din. That is one huge skyscraper. The highway we are on provides a perfect view of the Castle Town skyline. Several edifices are lined up in rows and columns, seemingly organized by size, but are all humbled by the massive towers of Hyrule Castle in the distance. Even from here, the castle's towers are taller than the buildings. I remove an earphone to stare in awe at the sheer majesty of_-_-

"Take one down, pass it around…!"

I immediately put the earphone back in.

My sympathy goes out to Rusl for having to sit through this torment, but then I remember that he has to work with Fado every single day. Poor guy.

As we approach the city at an agonizingly-slow rate in this piece-of-crap truck, other vehicles rush by, some in as poor shape as the one I'm in. I figure that those vehicles are also from poor towns. It's pretty easy to decide which travelers are from where. For example, the vehicles with trailers full of cattle are from agricultural towns, like Kakariko or Ordonia. Vehicles with canoes, kayaks, or other aquatic objects on their roofs are from the fishing towns, such as Outset or Koholint; both are large towns with small populations along the west coast.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out to see that it's a message from Ilia.

"Where are you?"

I reply, "Castle Town."

"WTH what are you doing there?"

"Heading to the commerce market with Rusl and Fado. It starts tomorrow morning, so we're getting there tonight."

"K… promise you'll be careful."

I'm about to text that I promise, but I stop, and instead text her, "For what?"

"I saw on the news that there's a manhunt for someone in the city. Forgot his name. Just watch out, k?"

A manhunt? Uh oh. "Ok," I text.

I pull out my earphones, and luckily Fado has finished his song. "Hey, Rusl?"

"Yes, Link?" my uncle asks, turning around in his seat to face me.

Nervously, I inquire, "Have you heard of a manhunt going on in Castle Town?"

Piqued, Fado looks at me in the rear view mirror. "Manhunt, eh?"

"In fact, I have," Rusl says. "I read it in the Hyrule Times this morning. The cops don't know his name, but apparently he is a gang lord wanted for intruding Hyrule Castle."

I text this information to Ilia, but my fingers are shaking.

Rusl consoles me with his softening expression. He reaches out to place a hand in my shoulder, saying, "Don't fret, Link. The chances of this man meeting up with you are slim to none." Nodding, I allow thoughts of the village to soothe my mind from its state of fear. Rusl offers me another alleviating smile before turning around to look at the road ahead.

We enter the city just as the sun begins to set, just as the magnificent lights are illuminated. I press my face to the glass, drinking in every detail. People walk by in suits and fancy dresses, carrying briefcases and shoving past any tourists that get in their way. Snobs. Above the passersby loom the imposing buildings with bright signs, acting as beacons for the ladies with dozens of shopping bags hanging from their arms_-_\- and such ladies act as beacons for pickpocketers.

And, as I'm informed, this isn't even the best part of Castle Town. This is the tourist-infested shopping district; the best part is the heart of Castle Town, which has a grand park called Castle Park, known as the "lung of the city." No idea what that means. There's a suburban area in the western part of the city, as well, where there's actually trees and grass, and even a private high school, Hyrule Academy. That's one of the last places I'd ever want to be, that school. I'd be surrounded by rich kids who judge me because I'm not like them.

The sun is completely obscured behind the horizon now_-_\- not that I can see the horizon, what with all these buildings_-_\- and has been replaced by the moon and the stars. I smile to myself, knowing the stars are more amazing than any man-made light present in this city.

Ilia responds to my informative text with a "He sounds dangerous."

"Yeah. I'll text you later. We're at the market."

Pocketing my phone, I notice we are in a busy street with tents and vehicles lining each side of the road. Fado drives for a bit longer until he finds an empty lot next to a brown Dodge, where he parks and sets the brake. "Link," Fado says, "would ya mind settin' up the tent? It's in the bed o' the truck."

"We're going to sleep in a tent?" I ask with wide eyes. If that's so, we'll be robbed blind, and I'll probably be shanked to death for my cell phone.

"Ha, no, me boy," Fado explains with a grin. "It's a display tent fer the goats. It's got no walls; just a roof made o' fabric."

"Why don't we just take these goats to the butcher instead of this?" I ask. Bringing cattle to the market in a rich town seemed kind of… medieval.

"The butcher don't haggle. He has a straightforward price that rips us herders off. Here, we can do the rippin'."

Due to Fado's scent of manure, I believe that's true.

"Alright, I'll set up the tent," I say, exiting the crappy old truck. The goats scream at me from inside the trailer when I step up into the bed of the truck, removing a large, heavy duffle bag filled with the tent material. "Sorry, goats," I say to them.

"You always talk to animals?" asks a voice to my left. I turn to see the owner of the brown Dodge, and immediately I'm creeped out. He's wearing a large backpack_-_\- probably stuffed with drugs_-_\- and is standing behind a table covered in various masks. He rubs his hands together, grinning, eyes squinted shut.

I ignore the strange man, returning my gaze to the duffle bag, stepping down from the bed of the truck. As soon as I turn around to start setting up the tent, I am face-to-face with the weirdo. "Aah!" I yelp, dropping the bag suddenly. And just my luck, it lands on my feet. Hard.

Upon seeing my frightened then pained expression, the man laughs giddily, wiping at his eyes in hysterics. "I'm the Happy Mask Salesman," he says, extending a bony hand.

I don't take it. Instead, I whip my head back and forth between the man and the desk he was standing at just a few seconds ago. "What the hell?"

"Would you like to buy one of my mysterious masks?"

"What? No!" I shout. "Get out of here!"

The man's creepy grin suddenly drops to a disappointed glare. "As you wish."

I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated groan as I duck to pick up the duffle bag, and when I look back up, the man is gone. Yep, he's definitely got drugs in that backpack. I move behind the trailer, tuning out the clamor of other merchants in the street, and unzip the bag of tent materials.

One annoyingly-complicated tent later, I open the door to my seat in Fado's car. "It's done," I announce.

"Oh, and Link?" Rusl chimes before I can shut the door.

"Yes?"

"Could you go to the supermarket three blocks south from here and pick up a dozen carrots?" When I squint my eyes at him in confusion, he quickly adds, "…It's for the goats."

"Oh." I rub my chin. Three blocks down? At _night_? With a wanted _gang lord _on the loose? "…Yeah, sure." I guess I'd rather go than put my uncle in danger.

"I should probably go with you…"

"No, it's fine, Rusl. I can do this on my own. Stay here." I offer him a smile.

He bites his bottom lip, pondering his decision. "…Okay. Here's twenty rupees." My uncle hands me a red rupee, then smiles at me. "You're a good boy, Link."

I smile again. "Thanks." Pocketing the red rupee, I shut the door and head off south, in the direction we had come from.

Every time I pass an alley, my heart rate increases, but I calm down once I'm in the center of a tourist group at the end of the block. When the sign changes from a red "DON'T WALK" to a white "WALK," I swiftly move across the street, repeating the process twice more until I arrive at the door of the supermarket. I push through the revolving door and emerge into a large but empty room, illuminated with dim, flickering lights. I make my trip quick, picking out twelve moldy-looking carrots from the refrigerated section. I move to the checkout stand, where there's a very, very plump man_-_\- in fact, he reminds me of a whale.

I set my carrots down on the desk, nodding politely at the plump man. His name tag reads, "Hi! My name is Jabu." His bored expression contradicts with the politeness of his name tag.

"Carrots, huh?" I nod at the guy. He rings me up, muttering, "Twenty-one rupees."

I drop the red rupee on the desk, but Jabu just stares blankly at me. After a while, I say, "What, you're not gonna let me have the carrots because of _one_ rupee?"

"That's right. Your total is _twenty-one rupees_."

I glare at Jabu, becoming increasingly angry. "I don't have one more rupee."

"Then you don't get the carrots!"

Damn city folk. Greedy bastards.

As I think this, I hear the jingle of the door, and I turn to see who entered. He is a broad-shouldered, towering giant, with dark gray skin, and red-brown hair with a beard. He wears a black suit and tie, but because of his pissed-off expression, he lacks the professionalism of a businessman. Just seeing him sends a tremor of fear throughout my body, and for some odd reason I can feel pain in my left hand.

"Fine, I'll just put one back," I say to the plump cashier, trying to distract myself from the intimidating giant.

"No way, kid. That's not our policy. You already got them all dirtied up! Now are you gonna pay for those carrots or am I gonna have to call the cops?"

Oh. _Really_. So the cops are gonna come here because some seventeen-year-old is trying to buy a dozen carrots. Yeah, who cares about that dangerous gang lord; that kid is the bane of our existence.

My hand is really throbbing now; and as I try to massage it with my other hand it only gets worse. I grunt, lifting it up and staring at it, and the skin on the back of my hand seems to… glow.

The imposing man walked up to the register, peering down at my hand with a frown. "What is the matter with you?" he asks_-_\- or, more accurately, he _demands_.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, but the action just sends another white hot bolt of lightning into my left hand. Yelping, I leap away from the counter and the large man.

His threatening, golden eyes suddenly grow wide. "It is you…" he mumbles, but I'm too pained to hear. "I've found you."

"Hey…" Jabu the cashier says, pointing his forefinger, causing the tall man to snap his gaze in his direction. "You're the fugitive!"

I, too, look at the tall man; then I see, behind the desk, a poster labeled "Wanted" with a sketch of someone. My eyes grow wide in fear as I realize it's a perfect resemblance.

_Oh, shit!_

He grumbles furiously at the cashier, then backs up quickly toward the door. "Boy," he calls while exiting the store, "I will find you again!" His words send a chill down my spine.

"Hey!" Jabu hollers. He hurries out from behind the desk, pursuing the man, but his poor physique is no match for the fugitive. I swipe the carrots and put them in a bag, then follow Jabu out the door, where I see the fugitive running northward on the opposite sidewalk. I also go north, but at a slow pace; I don't want to meet up with him again. Jabu is standing in the middle of the street when he turns and sees me. "Hey, kid! Stop that man!"

Out of fear toward the gang lord and anger toward the plump cashier, I raise my arms in false innocence and say, "Not my policy."

"Hey! Somebody stop that man!"

I keep walking forward, my hands shaking as I clutch the bag of carrots. I'm terrified. Nonetheless, I keep walking forward, nervously watching the opposite sidewalk in case he comes back for me. I eventually catch up with him, despite my preferences, and we're parallel across the street_-_\- oddly, he's not moving forward. As I focus my vision, he's in a scuffle with another man. Breathing rapidly and biting my bottom lip, I hide behind a public mailbox.

A gunshot rings out.

I jump, more afraid than ever before, and I peek around the corner. The gang lord is gone, but an eerie silence lingers over the dark street. I look closer.

There's a body.

I intake an icy gasp, mortified. Standing upright with weak, shaky legs, I make my way across the street, the trepidation of what's about to come overpowering me.

There, lying on the ground with blood pooling out of his chest, lies my uncle.

"NO!" Rushing to my uncle's side, I take off my black jacket and try to cover the wound, to use it as a tourniquet. He wasn't supposed to follow me! I told him to stay in the truck! "Somebody call an ambulance!" I scream in agony.

He has no pulse. His chest doesn't rise and fall.

My uncle is gone.

As I let out an agonizing yell towards the dark sky, I see that all of the stars have vanished completely, nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**That "Not my policy" scene is from the Spider-Man movie, but I put my own twist to it so it isn't copying. From here on out, the resemblance to the S-M movie will reduce.**

**If you don't understand the LeBron (LinkBron) James and James Harden allusions, they're NBA players. Just clearing that up.**

**Keep in mind that whenever you see the word "stars," it symbolizes good fortune. I hope that clears up the last sentence of this chapter. Though some portions of this story will be dramatic and sad, Counting Stats is supposed to be a feel-good story.**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	2. Newcomer

**Normally I'd put off updating this until like a week later... But jeez. I got more reviews, follows, and favorites than I did in my other stories' first chapters, so thank you all for that. You guys are rad.**

**Here's chapter two. It's long. Enjoy.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter** **2:** **Newcomer**

* * *

Friday, October 6

I am back home. Last night, I didn't give Fado the bag of moldy carrots; after being taken to the police station, I was driven home by an officer. So here I am, lying face-down on the couch, my head buried in the cushions, listening to the quiet hum of the television.

"A forty-six-year-old man named Rusl Gaiden was murdered at about ten o'clock last night on Market Street in Castle Town. Authorities have identified the killer as the elusive fugitive by the name of Ganondorf Dragmire, who is wanted for intruding Hyrule Castle last month, and even has been proven to be the leader of a local gang."

The lady's voice is replaced by a familiar one.

"Ya see," Fado speaks into the microphone with a sniffling nose, "Rusl sent his nephew to go get s'more carrots. After he left, I looked at Rusl 'n said, 'You sure you want your boy to go out on a dangerous night like this?' And Rus' looked at me, all scared and whatnot, and said, 'You're right. I need to go and find him.' When the both of 'em was gone, I was worried. I waited for them to come back, 'til I heard a gunshot ring out."

I hear the familiar voice of Jabu the cashier.

"I was just minding my own business, running the register at the store, when this gigantic, _monstrous_ man came in, wearing a fancy suit and tie. There was a kid trying to buy some carrots, and it looked like his arm was in pain, but I don't know. Then, um, I got a little suspicious toward the tall man, 'cause I knew I recognized him, and when he knew I was on to him, he beat feet outta my store."

The lady's voice returns. "The first witness tells us that the victim and his nephew_-_-"

I shut the TV off, unable to listen any longer. My breath is ragged, my eyes are puffy and wet. I've been camping out in the living room, sleeping on the couch, unable to find peace in my room; nor have I even set foot in Rusl's bedroom.

A few hours ago, when I checked my doorstep for mail, I saw nothing but piles of envelopes with the Hylian government's official stamp on them. Apparently, they wanted to send me _"compensation"_ for my uncle's passing_-_\- but I'd only been given enough rupees to buy a _gumball_ at the very most. How thoughtful.

The doorbell chimes in a three-note tune. Because I don't want to be bothered by the stupid government again, I refrain from opening it. I stay seated on the comfortable, leather couch, mourning quietly to myself. The person on the outside of my house persists, however, knocking this time.

Can't this inconsiderate jerk see that I don't want to talk to anybody?

Apparently not, because I hear the loud sound of knuckles rapping on the wooden surface. "Link Gaiden, this is CTPD. Open the door, please."

_CTPD_? Castle Town Police Department? What the hell are _they_ doing in Ordonia? Oh my Din, if this has to do with those worthless carrots I swiped from the supermarket, I'm going to _kill_ someone.

And _then _CTPD will have a reason to show up at my doorstep.

"We just have a few questions to ask you."

Relieved, but still angered that they haven't left yet, I slowly rise to my feet, then make my way over to the door. I open it, glaring at the officer on my doorstep. He has brown hair that is slightly curly, a soft facial expression, partially covered by thin, circular-rimmed glasses. His uniform consists of a dark vest, pair of pants, and boots. A holster rests at each hip, one holding a taser, the other holding a pistol. A chrome badge rests on his upper left breast pocket, reading, "CTPD - OFFICER SHAD STERLING".

"Mr. Gaiden," Officer Sterling begins, "I am here to ask you questions regarding the incident that occurred last night."

I nod solemnly, stepping out of the way to let Shad enter my home. Once he's inside, I shut the door, then motion to the kitchen table. He sits exactly where I saw Rusl sit yesterday morning, reading the _Hyrule Times_ newspaper….

I mentally slap myself. I can't get emotional in front of a cop. Or _anyone,_ for that matter. I need to prove that I'm strong_-_\- that I don't need the sympathy of others, or the oh-so-generous _"compensation"_ of the government. I can do this on my own.

I sit down across from Shad as he takes out a crumpled piece of paper from his breast pocket and unfolds it, squinting down at the words. Folding my hands on the table and raising my eyebrows expectantly, I wait for him to speak. "What were you doing at the supermarket last night?"

I decide to keep my answers blunt and try to show as little emotion as possible. "Buying carrots."

"For what?"

"Goats."

Shad squints at me skeptically, but doesn't press the subject. He sighs and returns his gaze to the paper. "Did the fugitive speak to you?"

"Yes."

"What were his words?"

"He asked, 'What is the matter with you?' And before he left he said, 'I will find you again.'"

"Did he say this to _you_ or the cashier, who first recognized him?"

"Me."

Shad shows me another piece of paper with a drawing on it. "This is a sketch of what we think the fugitive looks like. Is this accurate?"

I study it, noticing the sketched man's intense glare, his well-groomed hair and small beard. I will remember that face. _Forever._ "Yes." Shad places the sketch on the table. My eyes linger on it once again, and I ask, "Mind if I keep that?"

Officer Sterling nods. "Of course, but be warned: this man is very dangerous." I gingerly place my fingers on the paper, sliding it closer to me. "Now," says Shad, "let's discuss your current situation."

"…Okay," I say, squinting quizzically.

"Fortunately for you, your uncle managed to write a will, leaving all of his possessions and savings to you."

"How fortunate," I mutter under my breath.

Shad ignores me, pulling out yet another piece of paper. "Here is a check for one hundred and fifty thousand rupees."

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. "One hundred and fifty _thousand_!?"

"Apparently, yes," says the officer, looking baffled himself. "I had to double-check the file because I've never seen a resident of Ordonia possess this much money."

Why in Farore's name would Rusl hide this from me?

I guess that explains why he was always able to provide some extra things for me, like basketball gear.

But what the hell!

Don't get me wrong; one hundred and fifty thousand rupees is awful, if you compare us to the rich folk of Castle Town, but a goddess-damned _fortune_ to the Ordonians. I thought we were sitting on fifty thousand rupees; that defined us as middle class.

But now we're_-_\- _I'm-_\- mid-high class.

"Mr. Gaiden," Shad says, interrupting my thoughts, "while this may seem like a large quantity to someone accustomed to your lifestyle, it certainly isn't enough to support you for the remainder of your life." He looks down, adjusting his glasses while reading some text. "I recommend getting an education due to this. And since you are over the age of sixteen, you are, by law, able to live on your own."

My eyes drop to the check, and I swear I've never seen a number this big in my life.

Wait.

Hold the phone.

I have to live on _my own_?

"Allow this money to support you while you are preparing for a career," Officer Sterling says with a nod. "Also, we've received an important letter from Gaepora Harkinian, addressed to you." Shad slides a rectangular, cream-colored envelope to me, held together by a red seal with a Triforce embossed on it.

I turn it over to look at the front, where I see "Link Gaiden" written in fine calligraphy. Confused, I look at Shad. "Who's Gaepora Harkinian?"

"You'll find out," he replies, "when you open it."

Carefully peeling back the seal, I open the envelope and withdraw a similarly-colored letter with another seal stamped on the upper right corner. Still confused, I read the letter.

"_Dear Mr. Link Gaiden,_

_I have received word of your tragedy, and I send you my deepest condolences._

_If you have not yet heard of Hyrule Academy, it is a private school located in the western, suburban area of Castle Town. Many attendees are often revered as the 'most intelligent young adults in all of the kingdom.' The academy offers pupils multiple chances for a future career._

_I am writing this letter to persuade you to attend our school. Your tuition, if you choose to attend, will be paid for in whole._

_I hope you consider accepting my offer._

_Sincerely,_

_Headmaster Gaepora Harkinian of Hyrule Academy_"

Oh my goddesses. Why would they want _me_ to attend their school? I'm not even close to their social class! And they certainly proved it by offering me a scholarship! _Snobs._

"I'll leave you to your business," Shad says, rising to his feet. He lets himself out, shutting the door softly.

I think… I may want to attend the academy…

Whoa, whoa there, kid. What happened to doing things on your own? What happened to being strong?

Though… what about a future career? I'll need an education… And what's better than the acclaimed Hyrule Academy?

Nothing seems to come to mind.

I sit at the table, my fist set firmly at my chin as I ponder my situation. What would Rusl want me to do? Thinking about my uncle, I let a tear stream down my cheek. "I've got no one left…" I mutter.

So what do I have to lose?

My eyes brighten. Maybe I can start over; a new life, new home, new friends. Mind made up, I quickly searched for a pen and spare sheet of paper.

I'm going to accept.

* * *

Monday, October 9

"You're leaving…?"

It's been three days since I sent my letter, and the headmaster replied immediately, saying he'd send a limousine to pick me up. That's right: a freaking _limo._ It's six o'clock in the morning. My bags rest in the gravel driveway, stuffed with all my possessions: essentials, trinkets and personal items, and my basketball and gear. I keep my FiPhone in the pocket of my cargo pants; my other attire includes a simple gray and green Boston Celtics tee shirt and a pair of Vans. With my hands jammed in the pockets and my expression blank, I nod at Talo Brown and Ilia Brennan, my two best friends in Ordonia.

Ilia appears devastated. "You can't leave!" she exclaims, throwing her hands outward. "Link, we're sorry that your uncle passed, but you don't need to run away!" Talo silently looks down; the tops of his tennis shoes must be _flattered_ by all the attention.

"I'm not running away," I say, taking a seat in the grass that borders the gravel driveway. "I'm going to attend Hyrule Academy."

The younger boy tears his gaze away from his shoes, staring at me with wide eyes. "Hyrule Academy!? Holy Din, Link; you can't pay for that!"

I refrain from informing him that I _can,_ instead saying, "The headmaster offered to cover my tuition to show his condolences."

"Yeah," Ilia scoffs, "or just for a publicity stunt to gain attention for the school."

"Please," I say quietly, "don't be angry; I think I need to do this."

Noticing that Ilia is crying, I am tempted to comfort her, but instead stay seated to avoid a more difficult parting. "Goodbye, Link." She offers me one last look, then heads off down the road, leaving me and Talo to follow her with our eyes. I wonder if this'll be the last time I ever see her.

Talo sighs, then, unexpectedly, smiles at me. "So… Link Gaiden's growing up, huh?"

I can't fight the small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I guess so."

"Do me a favor, 'kay, Link?" Talo asks, smirking down at me when I meet his dark eyes. "Try out for the basketball team."

Rolling my eyes, I laugh quietly. I should've known he would bring this up. "Don't get your hopes up," I reply simply. "Hey, and remember, you can come visit me whenever you can. It'll be easier, I guess, since Lakeside is only a half-hour drive to Castle Town."

"Yeah… I'm not going to Lakeside, Link." The fifteen-year-old looks down again.

"What? Why not?"

Talo sighs, shaking his head, his dark hair dancing along his forehead. "What you're doing… I can't bring myself to do that, y'know? It's just so… _spontaneous;_ I don't know if I have the guts to do it."

I stand up, clapping a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder. "If I can do it, _you_ can."

"We still don't _know_ if _you_ can do it," Talo snickers, his eyes drifting down the road.

I follow his gaze, seeing a long, black limousine move smoothly across the dirt road. On the side door is the Hyrule Academy emblem, a red circle with a Triforce in it; simple enough. "Then I guess I'm gonna have to prove you wrong." I smile at him as the limo parks beside the driveway.

Talo grins back, chiming, "Keep in touch, 'kay? Don't be a stranger." He offers me his signature two-finger salute.

"Of course." I match the gesture with one of my own, and Talo turns and heads down the road with a crooked grin.

Disheartened, I lean down to pick up my bags, but I'm startled to find them all gone. After frantically whipping my head back and forth, trying to locate a thief, my eyes land on a boy standing next to the open limo door.

He has a crooked grin, the same as Talo's, but has intense red eyes and blonde hair that hangs down over his forehead and tied back into a small braid behind his head. Adorned in a blue athletic tee that hugs his tanned, toned skin, dark jeans, and a pair of gray Vans, the boy appears to keep up with the latest style. As I look past him inside the limousine, I see my four bags packed tightly in the corner near the driver's seat. "Hey," greets the boy, "I'm Sheik Stryker. I assume you're Link, but if you aren't him then I should probably take these bags out."

I blow air out my nose in a meager laugh. "Yeah, that's me," I say, walking to the limo. Sheik waits for me to enter the magnificent limo,_-_\- yeah, it's like a five-star hotel packed into a vehicle_-_\- then enters and shuts the door. Seating myself on the comfortable leather, I intake a breath of chestnut-scented air.

"Never been in a limo?" Sheik guesses, raising his blonde eyebrows.

"Nope," I say quietly. "Never been to school, either."

"Really? Never?" I simply shake my head. "Well you'll like it at the academy," he adds reassuringly. "If you're wondering why I'm here, the headmaster asked me to accompany you on the way to the academy, then show you around the school for a while."

I offer him a meager nod. My eyes drift to the darkened window, where I see the trees of Ordon Woods race by at a decent rate. We're taking the same route to the city.

That _damn_ city!

Why in Nayru's name am I even going to the city that my uncle was _murdered_ in!? And not only that; I'm getting closer to the murderer, who promised he'd "_find me again_"!

What the hell am I _thinking_!?

"Uh, Link?" Sheik questions gingerly. "…You okay?"

I'm scowling out the window; I hadn't noticed it. Tearing my gaze away from the passing scenery, I meet Sheik's red eyes. "Never better."

Skeptically raising a brow, Sheik almost presses the matter; then, he seems to understand why I'm upset, so he backs off. "Okay. So, when we get there, our first stop is the headmaster's office. He will give you a schedule, school map, and necessary supplies."

"Supplies?" Sheik nods at my inquiry. "I can buy those," I say.

"He'll give you temporary supplies, just for the day. You can get your permanents after school."

"There's school today?" My eyes widen in anxiety. I haven't even _prepared_ for school.

"Uh, yeah. It's Monday," Sheik says. "School starts at ten in the morning every morning, then ends at four in the afternoon. It's a whole six hours. But you'll be fine; I'll make sure of it."

"Okay…" Well, with a familiar face around, I guess school can't be that bad. "Thanks," I add.

Nodding, he continues: "Oh, that reminds me. After we talk with Mr. Harkinian, I'm going to have you meet my friends."

My eyebrows shoot up before I can control them.

Sheik chuckles, his crooked grin easing a bit of my tension. "Yep, and I'm not taking no for an answer. They'll like you; I'm sure of it."

"What're their names?"

"Well, my closest friends sit at my table at lunch. That would be Mikau, Mido, Pipit, Darmani, and Fledge. Oh," he adds, raising a finger, "and a group of girls sits at a table next to ours. They're cool." He smirks. "At that table sits Midna, Lulu, Saria, Karane, Ruto, and Malon_-_-" at that, Sheik's smirk widens to a grin, "_-_-she's mine, by the way, so back off."

"Malon's your girlfriend?" I ask.

"Eh, no, not really…" Sheik replies, shrugging. "Not _yet,_ anyway." I smile at the boy. This kid's cool; perhaps he could become a good friend of mine in the future. He's done a decent job of taking my mind off of… the _incident._ "Oh, and Zelda," he murmurs, snapping me out of my thoughts. "She sits there too."

_Zelda._ That's a pretty name.

"Zelda's the headmaster's daughter. She's cool, though; she doesn't go around threatening to get kids in trouble, or anything." Sheik pauses to move a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes. "In fact, lots of guys like her."

Well, I'll just have to meet her.

"So," he says, tapping his fingers on his knees, "what's something you like to do?"

Shrugging, I avert my gaze to the floor of the limo. "My friend Talo and I always played basketball."

"You any good?"

"I like to think so," I murmur with a smirk.

"Then try out for the team!"

Wow. Déjà vu. Sheik sounds just like Talo. "Nah," I say. "I'm going to focus on academics so I can get a good career."

Sheik shrugs. "Well, my friends like to play too. I'm more of a football guy, but sure, I like basketball. Maybe we could just play in our free time. Oh, but watch out for Darmani. That guy's a freakin' _truck._"

I laugh. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind." After a brief moment, I say, "Wait. Where will I live?"

"Oh, yeah. There's a dorm building on either side of the school; the one on the left is for girls, and the one on the right is for boys. The headmaster will give you a room, but you'll have a roommate."

Oh, goddesses, a _roommate_!?

"Hey, maybe you can room with me!" Sheik exclaims. Oh, thank Farore. "I'll ask Mr. Harkinian… if you _want_ to, that is."

"Yeah, that'd be great," I say with a small smile. Maybe school won't be that bad after all. With Sheik and his buddies, whom I'd hopefully get along with, I'll be fine.

"Ugh," I grunt, clutching my left hand. A wave of searing pain suddenly emerges from under the skin. Clenching my teeth, I double over, holding my hand to my stomach.

"Link?"

I'm in too much pain to pay attention. A white-hot sensation in my hand comes, and just like the last time this happened, my hand is glowing.

"Link!"

After what seems like an eternity, the pain subsides, and I collapse against the leather seat of the limousine. My dirty-blonde hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I intake ragged, shaky breaths.

Sheik peers down at me with wide, fearful eyes, his mouth agape. "What's wrong?"

I attempt to sit upward but fail, grimacing as I topple over, landing face-down on the floor. Clenching my teeth as Sheik helps me back up to the seat, I notice he's looking at my glowing hand.

"Y-your hand… It's glowing!" he shouts, just as baffled as I am.

Finally, the excruciating pain and the light emanating from my hand vanishes altogether, and I am able to form words between calming breaths. "I don't know… what the hell… that was."

"Should I… call an ambulance?"

"No… it's nothing fatal," I say. "…I think."

The rest of the ride was silent. We were both too shocked to speak.

Finally, at 9:15 in the morning, Hyrule Academy comes into view. As the limo pulls into the parking lot, several sights rush by me at once. Few students are milling around aimlessly, some sitting by the brightly-colored October trees, some heading into the building, and some just outside their dorm buildings_-_\- two tall edifices on either side of the main school building. This high school campus appears to be that of a _university._

Once the limo slows to a stop, Sheik looks at me with that crooked grin of his and flashes me a thumbs-up. "Let's go."

Reluctantly, I open the door, then, bags in hand, step out into the fresh air of Snob City. Huh. At least this part of Castle Town doesn't smell like urine and exhaust.

"C'mon, Link," Sheik says, gesturing with his head toward the main building as he slings a backpack over his shoulder.

I tentatively join him, and it's actually hard for me to keep up with his long strides when I've got four bags in my arms. "So… the headmaster. What do you think of him?"

"Oh, he's a good guy. He's friendly with students, and he has a sense of humor."

Well, that's good to hear. Maybe I won't be the recipient of too much punishment.

Especially when I've got the guy's sympathy.

"Oh, dammit," Sheik mutters, looking outward.

I follow his gaze with my own; at the right corner of the school building, there's two figures. As we get closer, due to Sheik's increasing speed, I see a large boy with a ridiculous, red, upgraded Elvis Presley haircut. The boy, whom I've dubbed "_Red Elvis_", has a rather strong grip on a girl's shoulder. The girl struggles to get away from him, but she can't.

And by goddesses, she's the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. She's got golden, flowing hair, tied into two separate strands on either side of her slightly-pale face by pink and green ribbons, and a third similarly-tied bundle just below her back shoulder blades. But now is no time to gawk; clearly, Elvis needs to lay off.

"Hey!" Sheik yells, marching over to the scene.

Both the blonde girl and Red Elvis turn to view us_-_\- the blonde looks relieved, but the redhead, not so much.

I set my bags down nearby. "Back off of her," I command confidently. I've never really been afraid of confrontation, and right now_-_\- partly because I want to seem heroic to this blonde beauty_-_\- is no different.

"Who the hell're you?" Red Elvis demands, slicking back his appalling pompadour.

"Doesn't matter," Sheik grumbles. "Get away from her, Groose."

I stifle a chuckle. This supposed "_tough guy_" is named _Groose_!?

"You know _what,_ Stryker?" Groose booms, rising to his full height, cracking his knuckles. "You get the hell out of here before I break your damn _skull!"_

This time, I can't help but laugh at the redhead.

He snaps his gaze to me, demanding, "What're you laughin' at, shorty?"

Shorty? Clever.

"Heh, sorry," I say, a grin still tugging at the corners of my lips, "but I can't take you seriously with that hair of yours."

"You lay off my hairdo right now, you little twerp! Everyone knows I've got the slickest pompadour in the city!"

"You've got the _only_ pompadour in the city," I quip, chuckling.

Sheik laughs too, and I catch the blonde girl's eye, who is smiling, clearly humored.

Since Sheik is nearer to him than I, Groose snarls and shoves the laughing boy, whose amusement disappears after landing hard on the paved ground. He grunts in minor pain. The blonde girl gasps, stepping back from the wall she was previously cornered at.

I know Sheik isn't hurt, but I become infuriated. My smile is wiped clean as Groose takes a step towards me, and I can feel my left hand cramp up as power courses through my veins. I can see light emanating from my hand out of the corner of my eye as I dash forward, gripping the fabric of Groose's jacket and slamming his meaty back into the wall of the school.

His golden eyes widen_-_\- half in fear, half in shock_-_\- at my sudden, newfound strength. Frankly, I'm a little surprised too, but I don't let it show. "Listen up," I command through clenched teeth, "if I see you touch _anyone,_ girl or guy, _ever again,_ I'll _pound_ your ass into the dirt."

It's just then that I notice how much my hand is glowing. Groose seems to notice too, but I finish my threat with a somewhat lighter slam to the wall, then release my grip on him. Eyes still wide, he backs away from me.

I turn around to see Sheik holding my bags by the entrance of the school, and the blonde girl is standing next to him. A small smile tugs at the corners of her pink lips, and as I draw nearer, I recognize exactly how beautiful she is.

She's wearing a pink and white striped sweater, a small pink scarf wrapped around her neck, and dark jeans that hug her figure well. Her eyes are a dazzling blue, and they twinkle when she speaks: "Thanks for that."

I smile, and I find myself flustered at the very sight of her. Rubbing the back of my neck and averting my eyes to the ground, I murmur, "Yeah, of course." Then, to maintain my chivalry: "Let me know if he bothers you again."

The blonde girl nods, smiles beautifully, then turns and heads into the building, leaving me and Sheik standing to the left of the doors.

Oh, crap. I forgot about Sheik.

"Remember me, man?" He smirks.

"Sorry, I uh…" Come on, think of an excuse! _Anything_!

"It's fine, man. I get it. You think she's hot."

"What?" It's true, though.

He simply raises his eyebrows at me. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, he says, "I never heard a _no._"

I roll my eyes, then push the door to the school open. Sheik chuckles triumphantly, knowing he's got me beat. Then, I realize something: I never got the blonde girl's name. I can't ask Sheik; that'll prove his assumption, and he'll just make fun of me, claiming I'm totally smitten with this girl that I just met. So, instead, I change the subject. "Where's the headmaster's office?"

The entrance corridor is wide and unusually empty; I figured it's this way because it's 9:20. According to Sheik, most people come to school at around 9:30. On either side of the hallway were glass cases containing trophies and team pictures for different sports. Hanging above the glass cases were red banners displaying the Hyrule Academy emblem in gold lettering. My feet echoed on the brown-tiled floor as I followed Sheik, who walked past the glass trophy case, then stopped. "In here." He pointed with his thumb to a door on the left.

After a deep breath, I say, "Alright." I knock twice on the door, tentatively pushing it open.

Sheik follows me into the large office, which is mainly containing a large bookcase, a desk in the center of the back wall, with an orange-robed man sitting behind it. He's heavily-built, with a bald head aside from his thick white eyebrows and small beard. A trifold on the desk displays, "HEADMASTER GAEPORA HARKINIAN."

At first I'm intimidated by Mr. Harkinian's stern gaze, but then he flashes me a benign smile, and my pressure is eased. "Ah," he says, "Mr. Gaiden has arrived."

I smile and nod at the man, then take one of two seats in front of the desk, and Sheik takes the other. He seems completely comfortable in the situation, plopping down on the chair as if it were his own. Maybe Mr. Harkinian _is_ truly a nice guy.

"First off," his expression saddens, "I am truly, _sincerely_ sorry for your recent tragedy. I know what it is like, losing a loved one; I can only imagine how difficult it is for someone of your age."

"Thank you," I say quietly.

We proceed through the process of enrolling me and getting supplies, a school map, and a dorm room. Luckily, Sheik convinced the headmaster to let me room with him, so he flipped me a spare key. Basically, the meeting was everything Sheik told me about in the limo, and it was a good distraction from the incident with Red Elvis_-_\- _Groose,_ I mean.

"I believe that's all," the man says. "Oh, and if you have any other questions, feel free to ask me. If I am not available, ask Mr. Stryker, or even my daughter Zelda. Here," he said, turning a photo around for me to view it.

Oh my goddesses. That's _her_!

The girl who I met outside!

Gaepora seems to notice my eyes widen, chuckling whole-heartedly. I feel my face heat up, realizing that the act could have given Zelda's father the wrong idea. "Well, that will be all." He smiles broadly. "Have a nice first day, Mr. Gaiden."

I thank him and exit the office with Sheik. Once back in the hall, Sheik smirks and mutters, "You totally think she's hot!"

"Sheik," I groan, "shut up."

Sheik persists: "Oh, c'mon! You're still not denying it!"

"Hey, Sheik," says someone behind us.

We both turn to see a girl with long, straight red hair above a cute, lightly freckled face. She wears a blue tee underneath a gray sweater, and jeans that are covered by heeled brown boots that end just above the ankles.

"Malon!" shouts Sheik with a jubilant grin. He greets her with a friendly hug_-_\- well, it was friendly in _Malon's_ eyes, at least_-_\- and she returns it. "I haven't seen you in like, a day."

"Been a while, huh?" Malon smiles, then looks at me. "Hi," she greets. "Are you new?"

I nod. "Name's Link. Link Gaiden." Oh, no. That was a mistake. Here come the endless apologies for my loss, which I have to thank her for and endure a lifetime of her pity. But, none of that happens; she doesn't seem to recognize my name.

"Malon Lon," she replies. "My father owns a ranch and milk bar over in Lakeside. Best milk in all of Hyrule, if I do say so myself. You've ever been there?"

"Nope," I reply. "I'll have to go someday."

"Link's from Ordonia," Sheik says, sticking his thumb in my direction.

Malon's face flashes with confusion, as if she were about to say, '_What are you doing here, then, you broke-ass loser_?'

"Oh, Link, there are some more of my friends I'd like you to meet," Sheik says excitedly.

"Shouldn't I drop off my bags at our dorm?"

"Ooh…" My new roommate scratches his chin.

"Hey, why don't I take them?"

We both turn to Malon_-_\- Sheik looks grateful and I look hesitant. Why should I give this complete stranger all the stuff I've ever owned? Um, no thanks, girlie.

"I'm bored out of my mind, and I could really use something to do," the redhead explains. "Then you can introduce Link to our friends, Sheik."

_'Our'_ friends… Hm.

Yeah, I guess I can trust her. Sheik does, and his friends do.

"Okay," I say after a while, handing her the four bags, which she carries with ease_-_\- must be from all the shopping that girls do. "Thanks."

"No problem, Link. So, Sheik, I guess I'll see you at lunch."

Sheik nods and returns the bright smile that Malon gives him, then turns to me. "Alright, bro, let's get goin'."

I groan in subtle protest, but allow myself to be dragged along by Sheik toward the cafeteria at the end of the hall. Once in the spacious room, Sheik makes a beeline for a cluster of people sitting at a middle table. My eardrums are bombarded by a "He-ey, Sheik!" as he takes a seat at the edge of the table. I tentatively sit next to him, feeling five pairs of eyes lay on me.

"Guys," Sheik says, "this is Link Gaiden. He's from Ordonia."

Unlike Malon, every one of them seems to know exactly who I am_-_\- exactly what _happened_ to me. I study the hard expression of a dark-skinned boy, who seriously looks like one of the toughest guys on the planet, and even _his_ gaze softens a tad. To the right of him sits a freckled, dark-haired boy with a yellow tee; next to him is a rather small boy with fiery red hair, freckles, and a green sweatshirt; next there's a boy with long, jet-black hair that hangs near his ice-tinted eyes, and he wears a dark shirt that hugs his muscular figure; and to the very right sits a green-haired boy with a friendly expression.

Sheik turns to me. "This is Darmani, Pipit, Mido, Mikau, and Fledge."

"Hey," I greet with a half smile.

Uh oh. They're just _looking_ at me.

Finally, after an unbearable two seconds, they return a smile. "Hey!" Fledge, Mido, Mikau, and Pipit greet in unison. The corners of Darmani's mouth curved upward, and he nods approvingly_-_\- I think, at least_-_\- in my direction.

"So, Link," Pipit begins uneasily, as if afraid that I'm emotional at the moment, "what do you have first period?"

I check my schedule. "HLA with Ms. Shadow."

"Cool," Sheik says. "We're all in that class too."

Relieved a little, I smile. "Okay, good." Sheik looks at my schedule, studying it. The sheet reads:

_ 1 - HLA - IMPA SHADOW_

_2 - HISTORY - RAURU LUX_

_3 - ALGEBRA 2 - NABOORU SPIRIT_

_4 - PHYS. ED. - DARUNIA MEGATON_

_LUNCH 2_

_5 - BIOLOGY - RUPIN MASCA_

_6 - COMP. SKILLS - EZLO MINISH_

"Well," he says, "I've got first, second, and fourth period with you."

"My classes look pretty boring," I groan. "Ugh. School isn't really my thing." Sheik nods; he understands. The others don't.

"School's important, though," Fledge says with a nod. "It'll help with a career."

"Yeah."

"What do you want to do for a living?" Mido pipes, his red curls bouncing atop his head.

"I don't know," I admit with a shrug. "I want to make some dough, but I just want to lay in bed all day."

Sheik snorts. "So you want to be a prostitute?"

I roll my eyes as the group releases a chorus of chuckles. "No, Sheik." The bell rings, and we all rise to our feet.

"Come on," Sheik says to me with a friendly grin. "Time for HLA."

Mikau murmurs, "You don't want to be late and piss off Miss Impa on your first day."

Miss _Impa?_ Why doesn't she make her students call her by her last name? Huh, she must be a cool teacher.

I nod at Mikau, following Sheik and his friends out of the cafeteria and into a hallway with various doors_-_\- it isn't nearly as crowded as I imagined it to be. Mikau, Mido, Darmani, Fledge, Pipit, and Sheik file into Ms. Shadow's classroom, but I hang back. "Link," Sheik says, trying to get me to come in. But my gaze is elsewhere.

I murmur, "Hold on." Sheik follows my gaze down the hall, then nods with a subtle smirk, understanding what I aim to do. He returns inside the classroom.

By the time most students are out of the hallway, I am already making my way down the hall toward the girl in the pink and white sweater at the end, who is struggling with a heavy package. "Hey," I call. "Need some help?"

Zelda turns around from the two-wheeled hand truck, which is loaded with a large box, and smiles at me. "Um," she looks hesitant, as if she doesn't want to burden me with the task, but still relieved, "sure. Thanks."

I'm about to take the handle of the hand truck when I remember something. When I slammed Groose up against the wall, I felt like a freaking _gorilla._ Now, I figure, is a time to test if my strength remains. Bending down, I pick up the extremely heavy package with_-_\- believe it or not_-_\- one arm. It's a strange feeling, really; my mind knows it's heavy but at the same time my strength makes it feel lightweight. I ponder this as Zelda stares at me, dumbfounded.

"How are you doing that?" she asks, a smile forming on her cute face.

I shrug, returning the smile. "Where do you want it?"

"Oh, just in Ms. Shadow's room. She asked me to get this box for her in the car," she explains, showing me a ring of keys. The teacher must be pretty laid-back to trust a teenager with car keys. "I tried pulling it but it's just too heavy for me." She moves a strand of golden hair out from her face, offering me another dazzling smile.

"You're Zelda, right?" I ask, though I already know the question. "The headmaster's daughter?"

She nods. "Yep." Goddesses, that smile is beautiful. "I remember my dad mentioning a new student… Sorry, but I forgot your name."

"That's fine. I'm Link Gaiden."

Her eyes widen in realization. "Oh…" Expression saddening, she places a soft hand on my shoulder. "Link…, I'm really sorry."

I'm about to protest, mutter a nonchalant '_Nah, I'm okay_,' and try to move on, which I have done with nearly everyone thus far, but I don't. Not this time. She's not one of those people who I treat as a minority, who I don't think are important enough to know how I _really_ feel. I just met Zelda, but I can tell she's different.

"Thank you," I say.

After a bit of walking, the 10:00 bell rings, and we barge into the classroom seconds too late. Great, Link. Late on your first day here. _Great._

The teacher, Ms. Shadow, turns to us from the front of the class, then sends a smile our way. "Ah, thank you, Zelda, for retrieving my supplies." Her red eyes shift to me. "And who are you, sir?"

I swallow in anxiety. Everyone's eyes are on me- including Sheik's, which relaxes me a bit. "I'm Link Gaiden. And, uh…, sorry I'm late."

"Ah, that's fine," replies the teacher, waving it off with a lightly-tanned hand. "I can see that you're helping Zelda, here, anyway."

I nod meekly, but try not to lose confidence.

"You can just set that box down here." She points to the area next to her desk. After I carry out her task, she says, "My, you must be _very_ strong to carry that on your own_-_\- and with _one arm_, for that matter."

I nod again, this time with a small smile. When I turn back around to take my seat, I notice that the only remaining seat is in the outside edge of the middle row, which is luckily behind Sheik's desk and directly next to Zelda's.

I bet Sheik did that on purpose.

The sly wink he sends me solidifies my assumption. I roll my eyes at him, then slip into my seat next to Zelda, feeling every pair of eyes on me. I even spot Groose sitting in the back, a frown set firmly on his pudgy face.

Zelda turns her head subtly to smile at me, then places a small piece of notebook paper on my desk.

_Thanks again, Link. Here's my phone number if you ever want to talk. 231-555-1986_

The corners of my mouth perk upward as I slip the note into my pocket. I meet Zelda's bright eyes with my own, a star shining in each of her blue irises.

Two stars added to my empty sky.

* * *

**If you remember the symbolism I told you about in chapter one, then you'll understand the last two sentences here.**

**The word ****_masca-_****\- as in Rupin Masca, Link's biology teacher****_-_****\- means ****_mask_**** in Latin. The word ****_lux-_****\- as in Rauru Lux, Link's history teacher****_-_****\- means ****_light_**** in Latin.**

**HLA stands for Hylian Language Arts.**

**Next chapter, you'll be introduced to Link's "inhuman abilities" I hinted at, and Link will endure his first day of school. This should be fun...**

**Let me know what you think! Everything is appreciated.**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	3. Student

**Chapter three… otherwise known as Link's first day at school. Enjoy.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter** **3: Student**

* * *

Monday, October 9

"Link," Impa calls from her desk, "is everything alright?"

No. Nothing's alright. I'm freaking out.

"Yes, Miss Impa," I murmur. The teacher returns her attention to the papers she's grading, and I return to freaking out.

We're supposed to be taking notes from the novel _Of Mice and Men_ at the moment. While everyone is somewhere between pages fourteen and thirty, I'm stuck at page one.

I gingerly wrap my fingers around the pencil, pressing the graphite tip to the paper as lightly as humanly possible.

_Snap!_

Why the hell is my hand hurting so Din-damned bad!? And why am I feeling so much stronger today more than ever before? So, if I had the ability to lift a human tank off of his feet and slam him into the wall, something must be up. But _what?_

My hand seems to be the problem. It's the source of my pain, but, as I've realized, is also the source of my newfound strength. Look at the facts: before I've had the pain and sporadic phosphorescence, I was normal.

Sheik turns to look back at me from the seat in front of mine, his gaze mixed with confusion and worry. After all, he'd experienced my breakdown in the limousine earlier today. He silently mouths, _"You okay?"_

I nod in reply, then return my attention to the assignment. Taking notes is clearly a problem since I snapped my last pencil and don't have a way to sharpen it without destroying something, so I decide to do it later. With visible frustration, I gently_-_\- _very_ gently, that is_-_\- turn the page after reading the first two.

A tear manifests at the bottom of the page, but thankfully it isn't too noticeable, nor does the nearly-inaudible sound draw attention from my classmates. I release a relieved breath, which I haven't realized I've been holding in, and read on about Lennie's habit of petting dead mice.

After an eternity of reading and turning the pages at a snail's pace, the bell rings, signaling the end of first period. I shove the book into my binder with too much force, then stand up from my seat.

As people begin to file out of the room, Groose shoots me a furious glare before heading off after his idiot friends. Zelda offers me a dazzling smile after rising to her feet, leaving me baffled at her beauty. I match her smile with one of my own, and she turns to leave the classroom with the other students.

I look back at Sheik, who stands in front of Mikau, Darmani, Mido, Fledge, and Pipit; all of whom have smirks on their faces.

"Oh, shut up," I groan, even though they aren't saying anything, and start walking to the door.

They follow me out into the hall, and Mikau says, "C'mon, Link. It's nothin' to be ashamed of! She's hot."

"Alright," I say, taking out my schedule while ignoring their banter, "who's going to show me the way to history?"

"No one," Pipit chimes, throwing an arm around my shoulder, "until you admit you have a thing for Zelda." The gesture is a little forward, considering I barely know the guy.

"I just met her!" I protest. "Just lay off, 'kay? My day is stressful enough already." It's true: being a new kid isn't a picnic. And neither is dealing with uncontrollable strength. The latter surely wasn't known to Sheik and his posse, though.

Fledge smiles. "We know it's hard to be new to a school, Link. We're just trying to relieve your stress."

Darmani, who is typically reserved, chimes, "We treat our friends this way." He offers me a toothy grin.

Friends, huh? I guess that makes me their friend.

I sigh. "Okay, fine. I'll just find Mr. Lux's room myself."

"Hold on, there, Speed Racer," blurts Sheik. "I've got that class with you, and so do Mikau and Mido."

Well, it's about time they stopped badgering me about my so-called crush on Zelda.

"Well, we're gonna take off," Pipit announces, saluting to us casually_-_\- that reminds me of Talo. Pipit turns to leave as we bid him farewell, followed by Darmani and Fledge.

"So. History?" I raise my eyebrows expectantly at the three boys.

They motion for me to follow them down the hall, Sheik in the lead. "It's on the end, near the staircase."

"Ugh," Mido groans, "Mr. Lux is so boring. I've fallen asleep seven times in his class."

Mikau snorts, humored. "You're lucky enough to be sitting in the back; I'm in the front, so I can't fall asleep without being caught."

"Well, I hope I sit in the back," I murmur.

"You probably will," Mido says. "There's an empty seat next to me, so maybe ol' Rauru will put you there."

There they go again, calling teachers by their first names. Is that normal here? Granted, I never went to school before; but I've heard that you're supposed to say "Mister" or "Missus" or "Miss" before stating their last names. Guess everyone here is just that cool, even the adults.

Mido, a short, runt-like boy, saunters down the hall like he owns the place_-_\- something I find cool. From what Sheik told me, Mido never backs down from confrontation, despite a height difference. Mikau, meanwhile, is calm and collected, allowing him to have many friends and admirers.

"So, Link," Mikau says, flipping his jet-black hair when he turns to look at me, "Sheik tells me you're a baller."

Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. "Nah, it's just something I like to do in my free time."

Mikau nods. "I'm the same way, dude. I like the sport, but playing the guitar is my priority."

"You play guitar?"

"Yep." He nods, pride presenting itself on his tanned face. "Bass. Lulu_-_\- she's my girlfriend, by the way_-_\- and I are in a band together."

Damn, that's cool. "What's it called?"

"Morpha."

"Lulu's and Mikau's grandparents were in a band together too," Mido adds. Mikau looks down at the floor and grows quiet. "He doesn't like to talk about it, but Mikau's family is famous for their band, the Indigo-Go's."

"Really?" I've heard of them; they were a popular 80's band from Lakeside. "That's so cool."

Mikau shrugs. "I guess it could seem that way. But I don't want my grandpa's fame; Lulu doesn't want to get her grandma's fame. We want to earn it, y'know? That's why we made up our own band name."

By the time Mikau finished his explanation, we arrived at Mr. Lux's classroom at the end of the hall. Now that I think about it, the hallways aren't all that crowded; I guess I'm thankful for the school not having any lockers. They would just add to the congestion_-_\- it'd be like trying to drive through LA during rush hour.

As we step into the classroom, I see a man standing in the front. He looks a little like Gaepora, with similar orange robes and a balding head, but just a lot more… plump. And according to Sheik, underneath that stern gaze and wrinkly skin, Mr. Lux is a good guy.

His brown eyes fall upon me as he turns to view the small sea of students entering the classroom, and his puffy eyebrows perk up in interest. "Oho," Rauru exclaims, "a new student! Please, introduce yourself."

Everyone's eyes turn to me_-_\- everyone that's in the classroom, that is; the bell still hasn't yet rung, so thankfully not many more people can notice me.

Sheik and Mido nod at me with smirks set on their faces, and I hesitantly speak to the history teacher: "…I'm Link."

Rauru just stands there… _looking_ at me. What's up with this old-timer? Will he just… _say_ something?

Sheik nudges me with his elbow. "Manners, kid. Last name." Mr. Lux nods approvingly at Sheik, but I can tell that his words were used in a mocking tone.

I swallow hard. This man will probably know exactly who I am; like all others of his age, the only thing he does on his free time would probably be to read the newspaper, which is filled with info about my uncle's murder.

But I don't want him to find out! I don't want _anyone_ to find out! The main reason I moved here to Castle Town is that I want a fresh start. I want to let go of the past.

But wherever I go, whatever I do, whoever I meet… Nothing's going to change my past. It's always going to catch up with me.

And I may have to accept that.

"Link Gaiden." The words are barely audible, yet I know that everyone heard them. Recognition flashes over their glazed-over faces, followed up with sorrow and grief.

Rauru, meanwhile, notices the tension in the air, then intentionally lightens the mood by clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Well, Link, I look forward to seeing you every day. There seems to be an empty seat next to Mido's, so why don't you take that one."

Mido grins triumphantly at Sheik.

"Okay," I say to Rauru with a nod.

Once I part from my history teacher, I make my way toward Sheik, Mikau, and Mido, who stand huddled next to a front desk_-_\- Sheik's, I presume.

"What's that?" I ask, looking down to a sheet of paper that Sheik scribbles furiously on with a pencil.

Still writing down barely-readable words, Sheik murmurs, "Homework due today. I didn't get to it 'cause Mr. Harkinian was sending me on a mission to fetch you."

"Well, I'm sure you've got a good reason_-_-"

"Nuh-uh," Mido says. Then, he lowers his voice to a whisper. "Rauru's strict as hell."

My eyebrows arch. It's a little hard to believe, considering how incredibly laid-back every staff member so far has been. Plus, he seems like a rather personable teacher. "That guy? No way."

"Way," Mikau replied with a nod. "He's not mean about it; he's just got a few more rules than the average teacher. Like, get your homework done on time."

The bell rings, Sheik somehow manages to scribble meaningless words onto his sheet of paper, and I take my seat next to Mido in the back.

History passes by in a blur; Rauru introduces me to the class and proceeds with a boring lecture. I don't pay much attention, since history isn't really my thing, and instead focus on taming my uncontrollable strength. Luckily for me, Rauru doesn't tell us to take notes; I went through all of my pencils in first period.

When the bell rings, we all stand up. I lightly tap my knee on my desk, and sure enough, I end up knocking the _entire_ thing over.

_Dammit._

The room grows silent, and everyone turns their heads in my direction. Offering me a sheepish grin, Mido sets the desk back upright. "Sorry for knocking over your desk, Link."

"You didn't_-_-" I cut myself off when I realize what he's doing. "Oh."

He smirks, then lowers his voice so only I can hear. "I know that something's a little off about you, but for your sake I'm not gonna ask about it. 'Kay?"

Abashed, I nod with a small smile. "Okay."

"Remember, I've got your back," Mido says, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

My smile widens. "Thanks, man." When I turn, I realize that most of the students have already filed out of the classroom, and Mikau and Sheik are standing by the door waiting for us. Mido and I make our way over to the door.

"Did you piss Mido off or something, Link?" Mikau asks with a teasing smirk.

"Nah," Mido says, "he didn't. I just bumped it on my way up."

"So Link, what's your next class?" asks Sheik.

"Algebra 2 with…" I pull out my schedule, searching for the teacher's name. "…Ms. Spirit."

"I've got her, too," Mikau announces with a smirk. "Her class is on the second floor. I'll lead you there."

"Alright. Who else has that class?"

"Um, no guys from our group," he says, "but a couple girls who are good friends with us. Let's see, there's Lulu, Ruto, and your girl."

I know he's talking about Zelda, but I decide to play dumb. "My girl?"

"You know who," he murmurs with a grin.

"Whatever," I say with an exasperated roll of the eyes. I turn to Sheik and Mido. "Where are you two headed?"

"Biology," they respond in unison.

Sheik nods at Mido, explaining to me, "Mr. Masca's class."

"Mr. Masca?" I ask, eyebrows raising. "He's like the _only_ teacher who you didn't call by his first name."

"I'd call him _'Rupin'_ if I liked him. We only call teachers we _like_ by their first names," he explains.

_Ooh,_ I muse, _I_ _get it now._

"Alright," Mikau says, "let's head to math, Link."

Ugh. Math.

"Okay." I shrug.

Mido and Sheik part ways with me and Mikau, and we head to the end of the hall where the staircase is located. We ascend the stairs, and Mikau says, "Nabooru's cool, by the way. She's probably my favorite teacher."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He nods as we break off from the staircase and enter the second floor hallway. "She isn't like most teachers. She lets us use our phones in class, and we get to sit wherever we want."

We walk for a little while longer, entering the second door on the right. Ms. Spirit, as I can see, is of Gerudo descent, with tanned skin, fiery red hair tied back in a long ponytail, and bright yellow eyes. She wears dark brown slacks and a short trenchcoat ending just below the hips.

"Mikau!" someone calls from the back of the class.

I turn to Mikau, seeing him wave to the person. He then turns to me and says, "C'mon."

We make our way to the back right corner of the room, where three girls sit in a row of five desks. Two look almost identical; twins, I assume. They both have tanned skin, shiny midnight-blue hair, and bright green eyes. I can only see two differences: one of them wears purple and the other wears blue, and the purple-wearing girl has her hair straight while her sister has her hair tied up into a ponytail. Mikau grins, kisses the purple-wearing girl on the cheek, and takes a seat next to her on the end. I assume that's Lulu, Mikau's girlfriend.

The third girl, meanwhile, sits next to the end seat, the last one in the row. When I turn to ask if I can sit next to her, my heart stops. It's Zelda. "…Uh, hey."

"Hi," she says with a small smile. "You can sit here if you want." Zelda taps the desk next to her.

I return the smile. "Okay. Thanks."

After I've seated myself next to Zelda, Mikau sends me a suggestive smirk. "Link, this is Lulu," he points to the girl wearing purple, "and this is her sister Ruto," he says while pointing to the girl in blue.

"You're Link?" Ruto and Lulu exclaim incredulously and simultaneously.

I nod.

I think I hear Ruto whisper in Zelda's ear, "He's cute." I check Zelda's expression for a reaction, like a blush or a grin, but she acts like she doesn't hear Ruto.

What could that mean?

…Whatever, I don't really care.

I think.

"Wait, so you're _Link_?" Lulu asks again, squinting.

"Like, the Link from the _news_?" adds Ruto.

I try to quell the pain emerging from within my heart as I'm reminded of _why_ I'm on the news. "Yep. That's me."

Zelda gazes at me with a saddened expression, then turns to the twins. "Guys, stop pestering him," she says quietly, but I still hear her. They both nod, apparently understanding her reasoning.

The bell rings, ending our conversation. "Morning, guys and gals," says Nabooru, winking at the sea of students in front of her. Then her eyes shift to me, and I'm filled with dread. "Ooh, it seems you're here, Link! Everyone, say hello to Link Gaiden."

No. Don't say hello to me.

"Hi, Link…" groan the monotonous voices of juniors and sophomores in our class.

Nabooru smiles. "So, Link, why don't you stand up and introduce yourself so they can get to know_-_-"

Mikau suddenly stands up. "Sorry, Nabooru, but I think anyone who cares enough to get to know Link will do it on their own time. It's not worth torturing the kid, is it?" He gestures toward me, and I'm sagging into my chair, hoping I'm not coming off as some wimp to Zelda.

I bite my bottom lip, expecting Mikau to get an earful.

"Good point, Mikau," she says. "Okay. You all should meet Link sometime. I've heard he's single."

My eyes, squinting in confusion, snap up to meet Nabooru's. "What?"

She snickers mischievously. "Oh, Link, I'm just messing with you."

"I couldn't tell," I mutter sarcastically.

For the rest of the period, I try to remain silent as to not embarrass myself in front of anyone_-_\- namely Zelda. From what I've seen, Nabooru is a cool teacher. She's quite entertaining; perhaps math won't be too bad.

"Dirk and Drake, do you have last week's homework in yet?" Nabooru asks.

Two boys who sit in the other back row simply grunt in reply. One of them has a cheesy faux-hawk and a purple tank, revealing tanned arm muscles. The other boy has a dark brown buzz cut, and he wears a simple white tee covered by an open black jacket.

Nabooru rolls her eyes. "I swear, you two should be kicked out of this academy."

Mikau leans forward to explain to me, "That's Dirk Knowles," he says while pointing to faux-hawk guy, "and Drake Knight," he points to buzz cut guy. "They're Groose's buddies. Try to stay away from them."

I shrug, murmuring, "I won't make any promises." Zelda catches my eye briefly, then averts her gaze again.

"Dirk, Drake, you have detention. I'm sorry_-_\- wait, no. I'm not."

* * *

Fourth period: gym. This'll probably take my mind off of my uncontrollable strength. Probably.

I don't have a P.E. uniform, since Mr. Harkinian only gave me school supplies. So here I am, the odd one out, standing in my school clothes in the locker room. The room consists of innumerable square lockers on all walls, including some islands of lockers in the middle of the room.

I stand next to Sheik, Pipit, Mido, and Darmani, who all congregate in the northwestern corner of the room, changing into their gym gear.

"It's fine that you don't have a uniform, Link," says Sheik. "I'm sure Darunia will make an exception."

"True," agrees Darmani. "Dad is kind to newcomers."

"Dad?" I repeat.

Darmani grins. "My full name is Darmani Megaton."

"Darmani is Darunia's son," explains Mido.

I nod, mouth forming a small 'o' shape. "So what're we doing today?"

"Hm," Darmani replies, "we are doing a football unit. You can probably join a team."

"Alright."

Darmani leads the way out the locker room, with me, Mido, and Sheik in tow, and we enter the gymnasium. I stick out like a sore thumb_-_\- I don't have on a white shirt and black shorts like everyone else_-_\- and I immediately catch the attention of Coach Darunia Megaton.

"Oh!" he bellows, giving me a toothy grin similar to his son's. "New kid!"

As if I haven't heard that label enough.

"Yeah," I call back, making my way closer to the imposing figure. Darunia wears a pair of sweatpants and a white tank that reveals the lean, dark muscles of his arms. His milky-brown skin contrasts with the sandy-blonde spiked hair atop his head, with some hair traveling down to his chin in a short goatee. I look up at the six-three giant and gulp hard, murmuring, "I'm Link."

"Darunia," he responds. "You may call me by my first name. I don't mind it."

"You're not the only teacher like that," I comment, cracking a small smile.

"That's correct, Link. It's a little weird bein' here, huh? Everything we do's different." He grins again, clapping a meaty hand on my back and nearly knocking the wind out of me. "Don't worry, though; you'll get the hang of it!"

"Th-thanks," I wheeze, still startled from the impact.

Darunia's calm demeanor leaves in an instant. "ALRIGHT, YOU WORTHLESS KIDS! GET IN YOUR ASSIGNED GROUPS AND DO YOUR WARM UP!"

Eyes wide, I meekly stammer, "Uh, whose group am I in?"

As if someone flipped a switch, he's calm again. "You can be with my son, Darmani. Your fellow group members will be Mido McCormick, Sheik Stryker, Pipit Westbrook, and Malon Lon."

"Okay. Thanks." I turn to locate my group members, and I immediately spot the fiery red hair of Malon. As I make my way over toward them, someone sticks out their leg and my foot catches on it.

I don't fall.

Instead, the leg will have a _mighty_ big bruise.

"Agh! …What the fuck is up with you, kid?" demands the familiar idiot through a pained grimace.

"Don't pick fights with stronger guys," I reply to Groose with a shrug.

I catch the eye of a auburn-haired girl in Groose's group, who stifles her giggling. With a smirk, I turn to head back to my own group.

"Hey," they greet.

"Looks like I'm in your group, guys," I announce, grabbing the attention of Darmani.

"Great," he grunts while stretching a few leg muscles. "Just… follow my routine."

"You good at football, Link?" Sheik asks.

"A little."

"We aren't allowed to play tackle, though," Mido adds. "Against school rules."

"Plus it would give Darmani an advantage," Pipit says. Darmani grins devilishly.

"Hey, Link," Malon says, "have you met Zelda yet?"

"He sure has!" Sheik shouts before I can speak. "First thing he does when he walks on the campus, goes up and kicks Groose's ass when he was hittin' on Zel."

"You beat him up?" Malon asks incredulously, eyebrows shooting up.

"Not exactly…" I reply hesitantly. "I threw him against the wall. No big deal."

"Really?" everyone but Sheik and Darmani ask incredulously.

I nod simply.

"Link… I'd be careful 'round Groose," Mido cautions. "He's buddies with a few gang members… He has connections."

"He's in a gang?" The face of the gang lord resurfaces within my mind_-_\- the sharp jawline, olive skin, red hair, golden eyes… Could Groose be connected with my uncle's murderer?

"No, but some of his friends are."

"What're their names?"

"One's named Ghirahim… and another starts with a 'V'," says Pipit. Normally chipper, Pipit is unusually dark at the moment.

"Vaati," Darmani corrects, clenching his fist. "I wanna pound that little punk into the dirt so bad… But he always threatens to have me killed if I lay a finger on him. It just ain't worth it, bro."

They all nod. "Just try to stay away from them all, 'kay, Link?" Mido says carefully.

"Yeah, sure," I murmur, but my mind is elsewhere.

If these gang members go here, to this school… that means I'm in danger. The tall man_-_\- _'Drag'-_something_-__-_ claimed he would find me again; he did not seem like he was joking. These gang members may be affiliated with him.

"OKAY, YOU HEAPS OF GARBAGE," bellows Darunia, tearing me out of my thoughts, "TIME TO HEAD UP TO THE FIELD!"

"C'mon," Sheik says to me with a grin. "You're with us."

* * *

At last, lunch is here. I sit next to Sheik and Mikau at one of the middle tables, and we're soon joined by Darmani, Fledge, Mido, and Pipit.

After taking a few sips of pumpkin soup, the main entrée, I notice Malon plop down in an end seat next to Sheik. "Hey," she greets us with a warm smile.

Honestly, it's a wonder why Malon and Sheik aren't together yet; it's blatantly obvious they like each other.

"Hey, Malon," all of us respond in unison.

"So, Link," she says; I turn my attention toward her, "you got a girlfriend back home?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "Nah," I say. "Why?"

Malon smirks and looks back at her table of friends, earning a chorus of giggles from the girls, then turns back to me. "No reason."

I squint at her skeptically, but decide to play it cool and offer her a half smile. "Okay."

"Well, let's just hope you find someone soon," she teases. "You don't want to end up alone and miserable like ol' Pipit."

"_Hey,_ now," chimes the brunette boy, "I happen to _enjoy_ the single life."

Mido cocks his head at Pipit. "You're not dating Amber anymore?"

Malon and Pipit both shake their heads. "_Pshh_," he says, "no way."

"Why'd you break up with her?" I ask. "I mean, I don't _know_ her, but still."

Pipit merely shrugs. "She kept blabbering _on_ and _on_ about… I don't even _know_ what. It was just so annoying."

Everyone chuckles lightly. "Pipit," I say with a small smirk, "I thought relationships are about listening, understanding, and all that Dr. Phil crap." That earns another chorus of laughter from our group.

"I dunno," says Mido, "I'm gonna have to agree with Pip, here. Being single is awesome."

"Well that's a load of B.S.!" announces Mikau. "You're totally obsessed with Saria!"

Malon giggles at Mikau's outburst, then nods in agreement at a wide-eyed Mido.

"No, I'm not!" he retorts. "Dude, that chick is crazy! She once told me that she met the _actual_ Hero of Time!"

Pipit groans. "Those chicks are the worst_-_\- the ones who make up stories for attention. I dated one of those girls for three weeks; her dad died _twice_."

"Well, let me just enlighten you boys," Malon says, leaning forward on her elbows and raising her eyebrows. "Being single is like a post-apocalyptic wasteland where it's every man for himself. You're in denial; you all want_-_-" she motions to her table, "_-_-one of us."

We all squint at the redhead, confused beyond belief. I'm not exactly sure how to interpret that; maybe she was flirting, or maybe she was trying to insult us.

Sheik finally breaks the silence. "Yeah."

We all turn, including Malon, to raise our eyebrows at the blonde boy.

"What's that, Sheik?" Malon asks with a flirtatious smirk.

His eyes widen. "Er, I_-_\- Nothing. I didn't_-_\- Just nothing."

"Smooth, bro," Mikau comments with a sharp chin lift.

Rolling his eyes, Sheik begins slurping on his bowl of pumpkin soup.

"Well, I gotta get back to the girls," Malon says, standing up and leaving with a wave.

She sits down next to a small, green-haired girl on the end. Across from greenie is a goth-looking girl with fiery orange hair, dark makeup around the eyes, and an expression that gives off a _whatever-I-don't-give-a-rat's-ass_ vibe. And sitting next to the goth girl is none other than Zelda Harkinian.

"Link," Mikau says, "you're staring."

I turn to look at him, noticing everyone's eyebrows raised in my direction. "Oh, c'mon. Malon asked if I had a girlfriend, so_-_-"

"-_-_You wanna know if any of them are interested in you now that they know you're single?" Mido finishes with obvious amusement.

"…Well, yeah."

The table breaks out into a chorus of snickers.

I scoff. "Well wouldn't you?"

Darmani shrugs, then offers me a wide grin. "Good point."

I resume my observation, noticing a few short words being uttered from Malon. The girls giggle for some reason, and for a brief moment, Zelda shifts her gaze to me. Just as quickly as she meets my gaze, she averts her eyes, looking back toward a pigtailed redhead who's currently talking.

I should really learn their names. Otherwise, I'll just refer to them as "Greenie," "Goth Chick," and "Pigtails." I can't see the other few people sitting with Zelda and Malon, but I assume that they're Lulu and Ruto.

"Y'know," Pipit says, "what if Malon's right?"

"Hm?" Mido asks.

He sighs heavily. "Right now… I just feel like there's something missing in my life. I'm not sure if that's a person, a new pet… or just a burrito." He flashes us a teasing smile, then gets up to retrieve his Mexican food.

"_Wooow_," Darmani remarks.

Fledge grins. "Just when we thought Pipit was getting tired of the single life."

"Pshhh," Mikau interjects, "Pipit will never get tired of being single. He hasn't had a girlfriend for longer than three weeks."

"How many girlfriends has he had?" I ask.

"At _least_ twenty-five."

"So he's a player?"

They all nod.

"Then wouldn't it be weird for them_-_-" I point to the table of girls next to us, "_-_-to still be friends with Pipit?"

"I think it's weird we're _all_ still friends with Pipit," Mido replies.

I laugh. When Pipit returns, plopping down casually in the seat across from me with a simmering burrito on his plate, I say, "Hey, Pipit."

"Yeah?"

I gesture to the same table as before. "Have you dated any of them?"

He shakes his head. "No. Why? You thinkin' about going after one of them?"

I shrug. "Maybe_-_\- Wait, _no._ I guess I'm asking why they're still friends with you."

"Why _wouldn't_ they be?"

"Well, I hear you're a player. Wouldn't most girls hate you?"

"Girls _love_ me!" he protests, drawing attention from many other students. "Link, I'm gonna teach you something: I'm awesome. Without _me,_ it's just 'aweso'."

I roll my eyes, grinning. "Alright, Pipit."

He points his forefinger at me. "I like you, Link. You're pretty cool, but I feel that we've met for a reason."

Barely audibly, Fledge murmurs, "Uh oh."

I shoot him a questioning look before turning my attention back to Pipit.

"The goddesses brought us together, Link. They said to me, _'Hey, Pip, here's this guy, Link Gaiden. He's pretty cool, but it's your job to make him awesome!'_"

"No, Pip," Sheik protests.

The rest of the group also releases a chorus of groans, and my eyes widen.

Pipit grins. "Link, I am going to bestow upon you… the infinite wisdom of Pipit Westbrook." He leans toward me on his elbows, grin widening. "Link… I'm gonna teach you how to live."

"Don't do it, Link," grunts Darmani under his breath.

I snort. "Heh, no thanks. I believe I already know how to live."

Sheik leans over to whisper in my ear, "Like _that_ will stop him."

My eyes widen.

Well, this should be interesting.

* * *

"Whoa," I murmur as I walk into my biology classroom.

"What?" Pipit, who stands next to Darmani, asks.

"I've met that guy before," I explain, pointing at the teacher, Rupin Masca. He's got neat, red hair and a huge smile that chills me to the bone. He wears a purple robe that drags on the floor, and he rubs his hands together as he chats with a familiar goth student. I recognize this teacher, yet I cannot remember why.

Mr. Masca turns his head to me, and his smile drops in a flash. "If it isn't Mr. Gaiden."

His voice reminds me who he is. This is the creepy guy who I thought was a drug dealer, the guy who called himself the _"Happy Mask Salesman,"_ the guy who wanted to sell me a mask the night my uncle was killed.

I squint. "You're a teacher?"

Rupin scoffs. "Last time I checked, _yes,_ I am."

I already don't like this guy. "But I thought you were a drug_-_-" I cut myself off, remembering that it wouldn't be too appropriate to accuse a teacher of selling drugs. "I thought you sold masks."

"That as well, boy."

When I start to wonder why he's treating me in this manner, I remember that our last meeting didn't go too great. I had yelled in his face for him to leave my presence; granted, he _did_ scare the hell out of me.

"Sit down, Mr. Gaiden," he orders grumpily.

"Bell hasn't rung," I say with an innocent shrug, then return to my friends. I sense his fury-filled eyes on my back as we make our way to the back table, where I observe the students who walk in.

A petite girl taps me on the shoulder. "Hello? Are you the new boy that everyone happens to be talking about?"

I turn to face her. She looks to be nine years old, but apparently not, since she's in a high school. Maybe a freshman? In that case, I can't associate with her_-_\- freshmen are to be avoided like the plague. At least, that's what I'm told. "Uh, yeah. I'm Link."

"Hello, Link," she says, nodding in greeting, blonde pigtails bobbing. "I am Agitha."

"Hey, Agitha. Guess I'll be setting you around, huh?"

Agitha giggles like a schoolgirl, then nods and takes her leave.

"Been dealing with that all day?"

I turn to Pipit. "Not really. Just from you guys."

"New kids have it easy," Darmani snickers. "All the girls drool over them just because they are from somewhere different."

That isn't the case for me, though.

"No," I say. "Everyone but you guys and that Agitha girl is avoiding me because they know I'm not of their social class."

"Naw," Darmani responds, "that's not it."

"How would they know that, anyway?" questions Pipit.

I raise my eyebrows at him; the answer to that question was rather tacit. I've been on the news, and they've stated where I'm from. I'm from Ordonia. The redneck town. The slums. The ghetto.

I'm poor. I'm not like these rich kids, and they know it. That's why people like Groose are after me_-_\- aside from the fact that I beat him up, of course.

"Oh," he says, an invisible light bulb appearing over his head.

Two boys made their way over to our table. "Hey," says one. "You Link?"

Oh, great. Probably some of Groose's cronies looking for trouble. I study him, the one who spoke to me: he is tanned, muscular, and wears a purple "Baltimore Ravens" tee. His hair is dark, spiked up at the front, and his eyes are a stormy gray.

The next one looks to be Italian, with lightly-tanned skin and slick brown hair. He wears dark jeans and a white V-neck with a pair of sunglasses poking out of the collar.

"Yep."

Instead of giving me trouble, the first guy outstretches his hand, which I take. "I'm Arian. Arian Tate."

"Leo Grafanello," adds the Italian looking guy.

Arian notices the other guys at our table. "Oh, hey, Pip! Hey, Darmani!"

They turn around from Pipit's conversation with an attractive freshman (yeah, he's definitely a player), then break out into wide grins. "Arian! Leo!"

"You're in this class now?" Darmani questions.

"Yep," says Leo. "Talked to the counselor, got our schedules switched right up."

"Nice!"

"Now you can sit with us!"

I remain quiet, allowing the friends to reminisce. My eyes wander to the doorway, where I see the familiar bright red hair of Malon, chatting away with Zelda at her side.

Another class with Zelda. This could go well.

"Mr. Gaiden, please come here," calls Mr. Masca from the front of the room. I obey, making my way over to the insane teacher.

The bell rings, and the students in the classroom take their seats. I reach Mr. Masca, who stares blankly at me.

"_What_," I spit monotonously. The class is silent, observing us.

"You're _late,_ Mr. Gaiden."

"Late?"

"You're not in your seat."

"Because you called me over here!"

"I did no such thing."

"Bull_-_-!" I exclaim, intentionally cutting off the other end of the word. The class giggles at my outburst. "I'm in the classroom, anyway!"

"You must be in your seat. School rules. I'm marking you late, Mr. Gaiden."

"Din," I mutter as I turn to head back to my seat. "You're on drugs."

"Mr. Gaiden, I would shut your mouth if I were you." The class bursts out laughing. Mr. Masca barks, "Shut up, class!"

Silence.

"Now," he begins, "everyone find a partner for the assignment."

Agitha timidly raises her hand. "Um, Mr. Masca, what is the assignment?"

"I'll _assign_ it _later_," he snaps. "For now, just _do_ what I _told_ you."

The class mumbles as everyone tries to figure out who to be paired with. The geniuses, such as Agitha (I'm assuming), partner with similar geniuses. Darmani and Pipit immediately join forces, as do Arian and Leo, and also Malon and the goth girl. I frantically search for a partner, but everyone I would even consider working with is taken.

"Hey," Darmani says, poking me on the shoulder. I turn to look at him, and he points behind me.

I look backward, seeing the goth girl and Malon pouring out multiple apologies to their friend, who, like me, was left out in the cold. "I'm sorry, Zelda," says Malon, "but I owe Midna one. She did my math homework for me last night."

Zelda scoffs. "Didn't you get a D on that assignment?"

"That doesn't matter," says the other girl, who is apparently named Midna. "D's are better than F's, aren't they?"

"Ugh," Zelda groans, "then who am I gonna be with?"

And to my complete joy_-_\- or is it fear?_-_\- her eyes meet mine. She offers me a small smile, and after a brief moment of shock I return the gesture. Gathering my courage, I hop up from the uncomfortable lab stool, making my way over to her. "Hey," I say.

"Hi," she responds, her smile widening a bit.

"Your friends left you out, too?" I tease, earning audible protests from Midna and Malon.

"That's not what happened!" exclaims Malon.

"I'm not sure I like you, kid," Midna comments.

"So, Zelda…"

She raises her eyebrows.

"…Would you like to be my partner?"

What a weak way to progress a relationship. But hey, I'll take what I can get.

"Sure," she says with a grin. "I'd love to."

"Hey! Link, who said you could stand up?" Mr. Masca barks.

"Who said you could teach?" I retort.

The class releases a chorus of chuckles, including those from Pipit, Darmani, Zelda, and Malon; Midna even offers me a slight smirk. "You know," she says, "I _do_ like you, kid."

* * *

Comp. Skills is located in the computer lab on the first floor, and it is taught by Ezlo Minish. I hear he's kind of a cranky old geezer_-_\- the type of teacher I probably won't get along with. As already established, I do not get along with Mr. Masca, so this next class should be interesting.

I walk with Pipit, since we have the class together. "So… Zelda," he states abruptly. "Is that gonna be a thing?"

"No," I say almost too quickly.

"Why? Something wrong with her?"

I sigh. "Nothing's wrong with her. It's just… I'm not sure I want a girlfriend."

His eyes brighten with excitement. "Great, my lessons are gettin' to ya! Long-term can wait; for now, be like me and_-_-"

"No, that's not what I mean," I interrupt. Of course, I mean that I don't want to get attached to anyone. The goddesses are pretty much against me at the moment, ripping everything I hold dear away from me. It happened before; it'll happen again.

The whole incident has deprived me of my optimism.

"Oh," Pipit says, "okay." I don't think he knows why, but I assume he's just trying to drop the matter.

"So…" I change the subject. "Mr. Minish. He any good?"

"The absolute worse."

"Yeah? Just how bad is he?"

Pipit groans quietly. "I can't even describe it. It'd be like trying to describe a rainbow to a blind man."

"Great. Two awful teachers in a row."

"Get used to it, man. We've got another nine months or so before summer."

"Then… freedom."

"For less than three months."

"Dammit."

Mr. Minish's class is the fourth and final class I have with Zelda, I notice. She sits at a table of four computers with Malon, Midna, and the pigtailed girl.

I realize that I should probably know her name by now, so I tap Pipit's shoulder. "Who's the girl sitting next to Malon?"

"Karane," he responds almost immediately, eyes lingering on the group of four.

"Dude, don't go hit on them," I warn. "If you do, then they'll hate me for hanging out with you."

"Oh, Link. Always thinking about yourself." He grins. "Besides, I hit on them all the time. It's just who I am. They don't mind. They find it flattering."

Skeptically, I raise my eyebrows, then repeat, "_Flattering._"

Pipit finally meets my eyes after staring at the group of four. "Yeah. Every girl likes to get hit on. It's a known fact. And even if I get shot down, it boosts their confidence."

"Wow," I say. "That's actually really nice of you_-_-"

"But _day-umn,_ ain't Karane _hot_?" He resumes his ogling toward the girl.

I roll my eyes. "Never mind."

Pipit motions for me to follow his lead, and he strides confidently over to the table next to the girls'. "Well, hel-lo," he greets seductively, stretching out the word. "Lookin' beautiful as always, ladies."

I notice his eyes lingering a little on Karane; perhaps she's the new object of his affection.

Karane rolls her eyes, but I can detect a playful smirk on her lips.

"Hey, Pipit," the girls respond.

"Karane," says Pipit, "you've met Link, right?"

Her eyes shift to me, and I notice them widen a bit. A faint blush creeps up to her cheeks, and she smiles. "N-no, I haven't. It's nice to meet you, Link. I'm Karane."

"The pleasure is mine," I respond respectfully, stealing a glance at Zelda. The blonde meets my gaze, intrigued, and also smiles.

Midna just leans back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head. "Enough with the formalities, guys," she groans. "I'm as bored as a fat kid with a plate of carrots."

"So Zel," Pipit begins, effectively ignoring the goth girl's comment, "most of the gang is coming to the lounge tonight. You wanna come, too?"

"Sure," she says. "What time?"

"'Bout seven or so." He then remembers me. "You can come along, too, Link. The lounge is built off the boys' dorm building. Sheik will show you the way."

"Alright, sounds good."

I'll be able to join them after unpacking my stuff in my new dorm_-_-

"Oh," I say, "I forgot to thank you, Malon, for taking my bags up to my dorm."

She smiles widely. "Don't worry about it, Link."

The bell rings moments later, and Pipit and I take our seats next to Zelda's table of friends.

The teacher walks in; he's a stout, pent-up old geezer in a wrinkly green suit with a permanent frown set below a creased forehead. His gray, emotionless eyes dart back and forth between the students, twitching sporadically. In a high pitched, bird-like voice, he orders, "Quiet!"

The class reluctantly obeys.

"Now. My class list says we have a new student, but frankly I do not care, so let us continue with yesterday's lesson."

"I appreciate the warm welcome," I chime. Pipit snickers, but Mr. Minish doesn't seem very amused.

"Quiet, you!" he barks.

So you're gonna treat me like shit? Bad move, Mr. Minish. This means war.

"Everyone, open your code projects. Keep designing… whatever you want. Just be sure it's school appropriate."

I absently stare at the monitor in front of me, unable to get started. I already hate this teacher. He's everything people have described him to be.

Pipit leans over and whispers, "Hey. Click on the 'Macintosh HD' button."

"Why?"

"So you can start a project."

I squint. "On this?" I ask, motioning to the monitor.

"…Yeah," he replies with a slow nod of the head.

I stare blankly at the screen and the background photo of the spiraling purple galaxy. "Uh…"

"What's wrong, Link?"

I shrug. "…I've never used a computer before."

His eyes widen. "You kiddin'?"

I shake my head. "I own a smartphone, but not a computer."

"Dude, it's simple. Watch me." He places his hand on the mouse, drags it over across the table, while at the same time the cursor on the screen moves. Intrigued, I gaze at the screen as he clicks on the aforementioned button. "Now you try."

I mimic the action, opening up a window on the screen. It's actually pretty easy, I realize.

"Now, click on 'Coding Software'_-_-"

"Pipit, stop talking." Mr. Minish glares at the boy.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm helping the new kid, aight?"

"I do not care," replies the teacher forcefully. "Shut your mouth and do the assignment. That goes for you too, new kid."

"Lay off of him," I pipe up. "Pipit is doing your job for you, anyway."

"Boy_-_-"

"It's _Link,_ for the record," I spit.

Mr. Minish stands up from his chair abruptly_-_\- an act that likely caused his old, rickety bones to pop. "Look, _Link._ You cannot act all _high and mighty_ just because you're the new kid in school. You do not _belong_ here. You are _poor,_ from the _slums,_ and you do not _deserve_ to be a part of this honored academy. I do not care if your _uncle_ was killed."

Silence.

I stand up, clenching my fists and teeth, unwavering gaze fixated on the man before me. I remain standing there, fury threatening to overwhelm my judgement, for a brief moment. Then I turn and exit the classroom, everyone's eyes lingering on my back.

The door slams loudly behind me as I stomp through the hall. Suddenly power is surging to my right hand, craving release, and I throw a punch straight at the wall. It cracks and implodes, revealing a gaping hole.

I rest my head against the wall, sealing my eyes shut and refusing to let the tears fall.

"Link?"

I turn and fixate my eyes on the man standing near the main entrance, and I immediately recognize him as Officer Shad from CTPD.

He gazes at me, concerned, shocked. "…The headmaster said I'd find you in the computer lab."

Shad clears his throat. "I've, uh, been looking for you. There's more information about your uncle's murderer that we think you should know."

* * *

**Just a little drama to end the chapter. :/**

**I hope you enjoy the humor I'm incorporating in this fic. Humor and romance will be my main priorities (despite the drama and some action in the future). Think of it as… an Action-packed-Romantic-Dromedy.**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	4. Detective

**Thanks to Canis Lupes (previously known as Skyward Scrub) for being an awesome beta reader.**

**Last chapter may have been boring for some of you, due to the linear structure of the high school day. I assure you that that won't reoccur. Most of the story will be set in baseline places (i.e., the lunchroom, Mr. Masca's and Mr. Minish's classes because they hate Link, the gym during or after school, the lounge, and Link's dorm).**

**Now… What info will Shad give our favorite young hero? Read along, dear readers.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 4: Detective**

* * *

Monday, October 9

"Do you still have that picture?"

"…Which one?"

"The one of the fugitive."

"Oh. Yes, I do." I take out the neatly folded paper from my pants pocket and place it on the table.

"Might I ask why you carry it on your person?"

"…Tracking purposes. I could ask 'Have you seen this man?' to some people."

"Link, what if you ask someone connected to his gang? That could be very dangerous."

I shrug, dropping my eyes to the tabletop. "There isn't much I have to lose anymore."

"Please, Link," Shad says, "don't talk that way. I'd hate to see you do something foolish."

"Why?" I ask. "Why are you still trying to help me? You already gave me a new school. I don't need any more help, Officer."

"_Detective_," he corrects. "Detective Shad Sterling. I've been promoted for the sole purpose of getting to the bottom of this. This case is very important to me, too, Link. An innocent man was killed, and he certainly will not be the last if the fugitive is not caught."

"I don't need a detective," I say pridefully. "I'm bringing the murderer to justice—by myself."

"Yeah, well good luck with that," Shad scoffs. "Do not take this the wrong way, Link, but you're just a teenager."

"What does my age have to do with anything?"

Shad sighs, sputtering out, "He could kill you, Link. You're incapable of handling this safely."

"Incapable," I repeat, shaking my head. My fist clenches, but I refuse to release my newfound strength in any manner—especially not on Shad. "You don't know me."

He grumbles in defeat, then says, "Okay, Link, I give up. If you want to risk your life for a silly thing like revenge—"

"Justice."

"—then knock yourself out." He pauses, pushing his glasses back over his nose. "But that doesn't mean you're not going to have my help."

I roll my eyes. "Really, dude? I just said I don't need—"

"Ganondorf has connections," Shad interrupts, pointing to the photo of the wanted gang lord. "He can have anyone killed if they so much as blink at him. You'll need some of my resources—CTPD, and the skill of a recently-promoted detective."

I squint. "The minimal skill of a rookie, you mean?"

Shad ignores me, withdrawing a darkened photograph from his briefcase. "Take a look here," he instructs, pointing to some shape.

"What the heck is that?" I ask monotonously.

"This is a picture of the fugitive's arm," Shad explains.

"His arm? Why in Nayru's name would that matter?"

"Look closely, Link," he coaxes. "Specifically, at the wrist."

I lean forward to gaze more intently at the photograph, and that's when I notice it. A tattoo is on his arm—one of a crescent moon.

"It is the symbol of his gang," Shad says. "They're called the M.O.D.—Men of Demise."

"Men of Demise?"

Shad nods. "I don't know if that has some deeper meaning, but I think it's just a name that invokes power. Anyway, we have received reports of gang related activity transpiring in and near your school. Based on this information, we are assuming that you have a few gangsters as classmates. They may be connected to Dragmire."

"I have a few suspects in mind," I say. "A few friends of mine told me about two people… I forgot their names."

"Could you ask your friends again?" Shad inquires, scribbling notes fervently on a sheet of paper.

I shake my head. "No. I don't want them getting suspicious if I am to track this gang lord down. They'll just get in the way of that."

He sighs. "True. Well, keep an eye out for unusual activity. And if you see anything worth my attention, give me a call." His fingers push a small slip of paper with digits on it.

I take it, fold it, and place it in my pocket. "Thank you."

Grinning triumphantly, Shad says, "I knew you'd come around. Now, let me give you a ride back to the academy."

* * *

I am officially living a double life.

On one hand, I'm beginning to track down the fugitive who killed my uncle. On the other, I'm trying to survive high school, crazy friends, and two teachers who hate my guts.

I should be in a movie.

I shut the police car door, offering Detective Shad a haphazard wave, then step onto Hyrule Academy campus. It's nearly evening right about now, with the sun just beginning to set, yellowing the sky and tinting the multicolored autumn leaves.

Birds sing from nearby trees, humming and chirping rhythmically while I trek down the paved path to the academy. I pass the plaza, heading toward the boys' dorm building located to the right of the school.

A group of boys are chatting outside the large double doors. I look among them for Sheik, my roommate, but don't find him anywhere. Instead, my eyes land on a shady-looking dude with long, lavender hair and a purple jacket. He murmurs something to a nearby person, who grows angry and shoves him backward. The shady boy topples into me, sending the both of us to the ground.

"Ugh!" he grunts, shooting the perpetrator a nasty glare.

I rise hesitantly to my feet, offering to help the guy up. "You alright, man?"

"Yeah," he spits in reply, yanking himself upward with the support of my arm. He fixes his red eyes on me, glaring, as if _I_ were the one who pushed him. Then he shoves past me with his shoulder.

What a jackass.

Ignoring the group's stares, I shove the double doors open with way too much force, causing them to slam into the inside walls.

Whoops.

A few boys shout out in shock, but I just lower my head and enter the dorm building. I stand in a long, wide hall with doors on both walls, noticing an elevator directly to my right. As the heavy doors shut behind me, I fumble in my pants pocket for a note that Headmaster Harkinian gave me this morning. I pull it out, scanning it for a room number.

3B.

My room must be on the third floor. Shrugging, I enter the elevator, punching in a button that reads "3". One surprisingly long ascent later, the doors slide open and I step out into the hallway.

"Link!"

I turn to see Pipit standing outside 3A's door. "Yeah?" I ask him.

"Dude, I just called you. Everyone's worried because we saw you leave with a cop. Did you get arrested?"

"No," I say, squinting questionably. He called me? When? I didn't hear anything. I search frantically for my FiPhone in my pockets, but I don't find it. "Shit, I probably left my phone at the police station."

"Why were you there?"

I ignore him, remembering that I did, in fact, have my phone on me as I exited Shad's car.

Wait. That shady purple guy bumped into me.

"Damn," I shout abruptly, causing Pipit to flinch, "it was stolen!" I take off toward where I came from, not bothering to take the elevator and instead opting to descend the staircase nearby.

Pipit, in pursuit, shouts, "How? Did you get mugged?"

I don't reply.

"Did he where a fedora? Did he tell you to stick 'em up?"

"Yeah, Pip, because he was a 1940's mobster," I respond sarcastically. "I didn't get mugged—I got pickpocketed."

When I reach the bottom of the staircase, I bolt out the double doors, unintentionally slamming the door into the same cluster of boys.

"Aah!"

"The hell—?!"

Pipit stands in the doorway behind me, staring forward with wide, unblinking eyes. "You just hit them, Link!"

I know I didn't mean to, but nonetheless I shout, "These thieves had it coming!"

The group of five boys moves out from behind the door and glares furiously at me. I narrow my eyes myself, scanning them for the lavender-haired boy. I spot him standing behind his comrades; he shoves through them, a sneer present on his face as he lobs my phone toward me.

Startled by my effortless victory, I reach out for my cell and catch it. "What the hell?" I ask—of course, I'm asking two different questions. Why did you pickpocket me, and why did you give up so easily?

"Heh," the lavender-haired guy says with smooth vocals. "I knew it was you. Who else could push a door with such strength?"

I squint. How does he know me?

Seeing my confusion, he sneers, flipping his dumb hair. "I don't want your stupid phone—I was just trying to draw you out." He chuckles. "Later, Gaiden."

Of course—he has to be acquainted with Groose. That's how he knows of me and my unexplainable strength.

At least, I hope that's the case. I would hate for him to know of my strength for another reason—which has to do with the symbol on the back of my hand. And, other than Sheik, there was one single person who saw it: Dragmire.

But that can't be it. He's probably just one of Groose's lackeys.

The lavender-haired dude turns his back and takes his leave, followed by the suckers I had hit with the door. They send me menacing looks, but I ignore them. If I can beat up Groose, these dumbasses can't be any more difficult.

"Link," Pipit says.

I turn around to meet his startled gaze.

"Stay away from them." It wasn't a request.

I snort.

He shakes his head. "I'm not kidding, Link. Those guys are dangerous. Even I, Pipit Westbrook, the supreme leader of awesomeness, know that."

"Supreme leader of—"

"C'mon," he interrupts, "let's head up to your dorm. Sheik is… somewhere, so I'll help you unpack."

One painfully long elevator ride later, we're back on the third floor. "Your room is right across from mine," Pipit comments, motioning from 3B to 3A. "It's good you're not in 2A, though."

"Why?"

"I get a lot of complaints about the noise after curfew." He winks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're full of shit," I shoot back. "I'm heading in." Withdrawing my key from my pocket, I turn it in the lock, turn the knob, and enter the dorm.

Pipit mutters, "'Full of shit'? My ass."

"You can use my bathroom if you'd like."

"No—You know what I mean."

I flick on the light switch and scrutinize the room. It's big. A bathroom is directly to the left, and there's a bed in each back corner—one's blankets are strewn across the floor, and the other's are neatly folded on the top. I easily figure out which is mine. Directly to my right is a makeshift kitchen, complete with a sink, dishwasher, mini fridge, cupboards, and a table.

"Nice," I say, a smile creeping up to my lips.

This place will be my home for nearly two years.

"Nice? You kidding me?" Pipit asks. "If you wanna see nice, come to mine and Darmani's bachelor pad."

"I can only imagine," I reply, humoring him. "But I'm gonna unpack now."

I notice that my two suitcases—the ones Malon had generously offered to deliver up here—are placed neatly in my corner. Noticing also that I have a personal closet on my side of the room, I decide to unpack my clothes first.

"Do you need any help unpacking?"

I shrug. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though."

"'Kay. I'm gonna head down to the lounge early, chat up a few ladies." He grins. "Just go to the bottom floor of this building. The door to the lounge is at the end of the hall."

"Okay. Who's all gonna be there?"

He bites his lip in thought. "Mido, maybe Sheik and Malon, I dunno about Zel, Mikau, yours truly, and hopefully some hot girls. Meet ya there, Link."

"Alright."

* * *

My phone buzzes in my pocket; I check the message from Sheik. _"Hey,"_ it reads, _"gonna be_ _a_ _bit late. Go find Mido."_

I pull my new Hyrule Academy hoodie over my shoulders and open the double doors to the lounge—which is oddly named "The Lumpy Pumpkin"— and survey the room. A counter, which serves as a makeshift bar due to our underage, is directly to my left. Sitting on one of the barstools is an attractive girl with shiny, auburn hair—I recognize her as someone from my P.E. class. Tables are spread out across the large room, and there's a corner booth in the back where a familiar green-clad redhead sits. I make my way over to Mido, taking a seat across from him in the booth.

Mido murmurs a quiet, "Hey," and fidgets with his thumbs.

"You nervous?" I ask him with a questioning squint.

Mido shrugs. "Yeah, I'm a little nervous."

Out of nowhere, Pipit pops his head over the edge of the neighboring booth, startling us and causing us to leap out of our skin. "What're you nervous about?" he questions.

Mido whips his head in the direction of Pipit, gives him a 'what-the-frickin'-hell' look, and stammers, "…There's a really pretty girl sitting over there." He points to the counter, where the auburn-haired girl sits, chatting with the waiter. I recognize him as Arian Tate, the boy from my biology class. Apparently, Arian is a womanizing mastermind who is second only to Pipit in the art of getting the ladies.

I return my gaze to Pipit. "What were you doing back there?"

"Crazy ex-girlfriend walked by." Pipit smirks, then addresses Mido. "Listen, Mido… You have no reason to be nervous. And I'm gonna tell you why in one single word."

"What's that?"

"Dibs!" he shouts, raising a finger in the air.

Mido shoots him a death glare, eyes widening, nostrils flaring. "What?!"

"You never called dibs," he responds with a nonchalant shrug.

"But I've been—"

"Did you shout the word 'dibs'?"

"Well, no—"

He grins. "Pipit out."

I watch as Pipit stands up, then makes his way over to the pretty girl at the counter.

"Can you believe him?" Mido asks me indignantly. "Pipit gets all the girls, and he even takes the one I was thinking about maybe talking to sometime?!"

"Dibs, huh? You guys take that seriously," I comment.

"Mainly Pipit," he mutters. "It's his way of labeling things as his."

"Y'know, girls aren't property," says someone from behind me.

Mido and I jump again, then whip our heads toward the source of the voice. When my eyes land on Zelda, I relax but get nervous at the same time. If that makes sense. Which probably doesn't.

"Gosh, what's with everyone sneaking up on us today?" Mido asks.

Zelda shrugs innocently, then takes a seat next to me. "So what's up?"

"Pipit just stole the girl Mido had a crush on," I reply with a humored smile.

"Classic Pipit," Zelda says with a shake of the head.

"What a dick move, huh?"

"Oh, stuff it, Mido," she says. "You don't want her—you want Saria."

I chuckle as Mido's face grows red and he stammers, "Not true! Why does everyone think that?!"

Zelda smiles playfully, then turns her attention to me, effectively ignoring the redhead. "You okay? Last I saw you, you slammed a door in the professor's face."

I sigh, then slowly nod. "Yeah. I'm just not gonna take any crap from that old geezer."

She smiles, then decides to change the subject for my sake. "So, have you heard the story of Pipit and Karane yet?"

"Pipit and Karane? No. Why, is that a thing?" I ask dubiously. Karane seems like a quality girl—no offense to Pipit, but why would she settle for a guy like him?

"Heh, it's a long story," Mido murmurs. "Zel, would you like to do the honors?"

She nods. "Gladly. You see, at the homecoming dance last year, when we were all sophomores, Pipit and Karane… had the hots for each other." Zelda lowers her eyes to the table as a faint blush creeps to her cheeks—likely due to the subject matter.

"Yeah?" I urge her to continue, already intrigued.

Her blue eyes met mine. "So, um, they kissed that night, but soon Pipit's girlfriend showed up. Karane didn't know that he was still in a relationship, so she slapped him and stormed off. Next, Pip's girlfriend broke up with him for cheating on her and slapped him also."

"That wasn't his best night," Mido murmurs, taking a bite of a hot wing.

"Nope," Zelda agrees. "So after that night, Karane began ignoring Pipit. But since he was friends with her friends, it became harder for her to avoid him. Soon, Pipit apologized, and they became friends again."

"But he never changed? He's still a player?" I ask.

Mido shakes his head. "No. You'd think he would, but that's just the way he is."

Zelda nods solemnly. "We think his crush on Karane has resurfaced, but we're not sure. If he does like her, I know that Karane doesn't feel the same way—she's still a little mad at him for that one night."

"Do they hang out a lot since you're all friends?"

"Not too much," Mido replies.

Zelda sighs. "But we can tolerate Pipit. Sure, he tells dirty jokes and treats girls like garbage, but he's good company."

I look up to see Sheik heading toward us, with Malon clinging to his side. Both have wide grins on their faces as they stand before us. "Guys," Malon says, "we have an announcement."

"I know, they delayed The Legend of Zeruda Wii U to 2016!" groans Mido.

Malon squints. "…No, that's not it."

Sheik grins. "Malon is my girlfriend now."

Instead of cheering, hollering, and throwing a celebration, the new couple is met with some "Finally!"s from Zelda and Mido.

"…What do you mean?" Malon asks, slightly offended by the outburst.

Pipit claps a hand on each of their shoulders, causing them to shriek like nine-year-old girls—Sheik included. (People seriously need to stop sneaking up on others.) "They mean that it's about time you, Sheik, grew a pair and asked her out."

"Shut it, Pip," retorts Sheik. "At least I can get a quality girlfriend and not the dumb blondes you target."

Zelda grabs a strand of her golden hair, showing it to Sheik. "Ahem."

"Sorry, Zelda."

Pipit puffs out his chest confidently. "No, Sheik. I've had a ton of girlfriends. What's that phrase about quantity being better than quality…?"

"_Quality_ is better than _quantity_?"

Pipit waves him off. "No, that's not it."

The couple and Pipit sit down in the circular booth, forcing Mido to slide all the way to the right side of me.

"Hey, Zel," says Pipit, "is Karane coming tonight?"

I catch Zelda's eye, and she offers me a slight smirk. "No, she couldn't make it. Homework."

"Oh, okay." He begins to chat with Mido, Malon, and Sheik about the girl at the counter while Zelda leans in to whisper something in my ear.

"Karane's my roommate. Pip always asks me if she's coming to our little get-togethers. You think that implies enough?" She raises her eyebrows.

In that moment, I am entranced by her beauty. Her blonde hair cascades down the sides of her perfect face in two bundles, tied together by ribbons, with the rest flowing down her back. I get lost in the pair of midnight-blue eyes that are locked with mine; my heart melts at the sweetness of her innocent smile.

Oh, don't call me soft, now.

Returning to reality, I nod sheepishly and turn my attention back to Pipit's story.

"…name is Natalie Brynna, daughter of the actress Lara Brynna! She just moved here from Lakeside. So you know what that means?"

"She doesn't know about your reputation as a jackass to women?" Sheik suggests.

"No—It means that she needs someone to show her around the city, so she gave me her number. It was that easy."

Mido glares indignantly at Pipit. "I still can't believe you stole her."

We quiet down as an unfamiliar gray-skinned guy saunters over to our table, wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of ripped jeans with chains dangling out of the pockets. He flips his white hair flamboyantly as a sneer forms at his lips. Everyone gazes with contempt at this person, myself included.

Zelda subtly leans away from the edge of the booth and into me a tad. Normally I'd jump for joy in a situation like this, but with this creepy guy nearby, I'm stone-faced.

"So," he cooes, "you're the new kid."

I glare at him. "The name's Link."

"I didn't ask," he responds. He gazes at his nails, for some odd reason, and shrugs, bored. "I've been told to look for you, kid."

"By who?"

"A certain… _large_ person," he replies, eyes narrowing as a sadistic grin forms at his white lips.

My eyes widen. A large person? If I assume correctly, there is a large person who said he would find me, so could this guy be one of his followers? Could this guy be—what were they, Girl-hymn or Goatee?

"Just move on along, Ghirahim," Sheik grumbles, shooting him a threatening glare.

That's right. _Ghirahim._ Now what's the other potential gangster's name…?

His long-sleeved shirt covers his wrist, I note. Could he be hiding the M.O.D.'s crescent symbol? I need to tell Shad about this.

No—that would waste time. I'll just need to follow this guy, wherever he goes, myself.

Ghirahim shrugs again, then turns to leave our presence.

"You _are_ the kid he described," Ghirahim says. "Vaati was right. Goodbye, then, Gaiden. I'll report that I've found you."

"Report to who?!" I demand. But Ghirahim is already on his way out of the lounge.

"Link—" Zelda warns.

I turn to meet her concerned gaze. "Yes?"

"That's Ghirahim Daemon. He and Vaati Anemoi are supposedly in a gang. Try to stay away from them, okay?"

As if I haven't heard that enough.

"Is Vaati that purple freak?"

"Yes," says Pipit. "He was the guy we saw outside the dorm today."

I bite my bottom lip, pondering. Should I follow them and risk my life? Or should—

Wait.

What about my new strength? Surely, I'll be okay, but I cannot say the same thing for Ghirahim and Vaati. I've made up my mind. I'm going to follow this Matt Damon wannabe.

"…There's something I have to do," I mutter, sliding toward the edge, indicating for Zelda to let me pass. She does so hesitantly, standing up from the booth. I do as well, throwing a "Don't wait up" over my shoulder as I begin to walk toward the exit.

"Link!" they protest.

But I'm already gone.

* * *

I burst through the double doors and emerge in the brisk night air. It's dark, save for the torchlight of the sconces on the academy walls. Surveying the area, I spot Ghirahim donning a dark cloak near a tree several yards away. Realizing I'm detectable, I kneel down next to the hedge on my left, silently observing.

"Ready to go?" asks a distant voice.

Ghirahim turns, addressing the similarly-cloaked person. "Yes, Vaati."

They set off toward the street. I pursue them, staying low to the ground and padding my feet lightly against the grass to minimize noise.

"Did you check for followers?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because anyone who follows us will get pummeled."

_That's what you think,_ I muse as I take cover behind a tree trunk. I pull the sweatshirt's hood over my head, then continue my pursuit.

Ghirahim and Vaati are now off campus and are trotting eastward down the sidewalk—toward the city. That can only mean one thing.

I stay off the sidewalks, creeping along cautiously. My foot catches on a branch, and I trip and faceplant in the grass. "Shit," I whisper, scrambling to my feet.

"Someone's here," one of them says.

My eyes widen. I search frantically for a hiding spot before realizing with dread that I'm in an open area. Unless I can plow through the thick, ten-foot-tall hedge behind me, I'm screwed.

"It came from over there."

Without thinking, I leap upward, soaring through the air and hurtling over the hedge. I land painlessly on the other side, eyes wide in disbelief. "The hell?" I mutter, staring in awe at my glowing hand.

"There's no one there, idiot."

"I swear I heard something."

"Quit being so timid, Vaati."

"Shut your damn trap."

"Then don't give me a reason to open it."

As they bicker, my heart sinks when I hear the low rumbling sound of a growl. I couldn't have walked that far—are there guard dogs on campus?! That's awesome!

…But right now it kinda sucks.

Two golden eyes of a doberman are locked with mine as the slobbering creature slowly paws its way over to me. I gulp fearfully, then remember my recently discovered awesomeness.

I leap back over the hedge, grinning with excitement from my insane hops. The dog whines in defeat, then scampers away from the hedge.

What part of campus is this, anyway? It's surrounded by hedges and has a freaking doberman inside. I then catch sight of a sign that reads: PRIVATE PROPERTY—HEADMASTER'S LIVING QUARTERS. Oh. That makes sense. Sort of.

Now I know not to either a) break into Gaepora's property, or b) mess with him and/or Zelda. That dog's scary.

After about fifteen minutes of stealthy pursuit, I hear the familiar noises of Castle Town—shuffling feet, honking horns, and the jubilant shrieks of women who find designer shoes on sale.

Soon the suburban grass is replaced with pavement and buildings. Should I follow them on the sidewalk and risk detection, or should I scale the building in front of me?

Hmm. Tough one.

In order to test out my full capabilities, I lunge upward, grasping for ledges and propelling off of whatever footholds I can find. As I pass a window of the tall building, the unfortunate workers inside with late-night shifts yelp in fear and shock at the sight of me. In less than thirty seconds, I arrive on the rooftop.

Impressive, huh?

I peer out over the edge of the roof, searching for the two cloaked guys. I spot them easily—the crowds part in a wide circle from these two; with their creepy cloaks and sadistic facial expressions, you'd think they're rapists. They bank off into an alley one building down. I break out into a run toward the other structure, then jump. Once on the neighboring roof, I gaze down into the alley. I'm not too high up, so thankfully I can hear what's being said.

"Shall we hit the lot?"

"It's still a little early; more cops might be on shift. Although, I'd like a challenge."

"Great."

"You go on along. I have some business to attend to."

I watch the taller figure, likely Ghirahim, continue down the alley until vanishing from site. They mentioned going to some sort of lot—perhaps there's a parking lot where they steal from vehicles. Vaati stays behind in the alley, suspiciously checking twice to see if he was truly alone.

In order to get a better view, I drop down ten or so feet onto a rickety balcony. The wooden planks creak under my weight, causing Vaati to frantically whip his head about. "Who's there?"

I crouch low to the balcony's floor, peeking out over the edge.

He shakes his head, sighs heavily, and turns his back. I squint at the wall he's facing, seeing a black graffiti symbol of a crescent moon. Vaati grumbles under his breath as he withdraws a can of spray paint from his cloak, carefully covering the M.O.D.'s symbol with a dark upside-down triangle. Next to it, Vaati sprays four letters, but I can't decipher them from all the way up here.

You know, enough is enough. Time to get to the bottom of this.

After pulling my hood far over my head, I hop down twenty feet, landing painlessly in the alley. "Your gang thinks it's funny goin' around killing innocent men?!" I shout, striding willfully toward him.

"Wha—?" Vaati turns around, dropping the can of graffiti to the pavement.

I lunge forward and pull him into a headlock, reaching for his right arm and pulling the sleeve back, searching for the crescent moon.

Instead, his wrist is bare.

Vaati struggles in my grip, driving an elbow into my gut. I grimace and release my hold on him, stepping back cautiously. "Hyrule Academy?" he snarls, gesturing toward the logo on my sweatshirt. "You've been following me, haven't you?" Sneering, Vaati withdraws a small pocket knife, flicking it open.

"I've got the cops coming," I lie in a deeper, disguised voice. "Put that away."

"Heh," he chuckles. "No."

Vaati swings his arm in an uppercut motion, attempting to drive the blade through my abdomen, but I sidestep it and throw an almighty punch straight at his ribcage. I can feel his bones crack beneath my knuckles as I make contact. He cries out in agony, clutches his upper body, then collapses with ragged breaths.

I turn to the wall Vaati had spray painted, studying the upside-down triangle and the letters next to it.

Y.U.G.A.

Before I can even think as to what that means, the shrill sounds of sirens blare through the night. Uh oh. If the cops see me here next to this heap of purple lying on the ground, they'll arrest me for gang violence.

A hoarse, croaking voice from behind me wheezes, "If… you're looking… for the… M.O.D., then… you've got… the wrong guy."

"I know," I mutter. "You don't have the tattoo."

"How… do you know… about that?" he asks, surprised. "Who… are you?"

I realize that Vaati is stalling, and I hear the sirens draw nearer, so I start to run toward the fence at the end of the alley.

"W-wait!" he cries out, coughing. "If… you want… Ghirahim… then he's… at the parking lot… a block down… that way.…" Vaati gestures toward the end of the alley, which likely has a street behind it leading to the lot.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Dragmire's gang… needs to be… taken down." Vaati offers me a pained, sadistic grin.

Well, he's right, but we clearly have different motives for doing so, and differing desired outcomes of that situation. I roll my eyes, then leave Vaati in the alley. I leap over the fence, landing on a neighboring street. Continuing in the direction that Vaati pointed me in, I set out after Ghirahim.

Maybe I'll find Dragmire at the lot.

This thought urges me forward, to sprint at increasing speeds—inhuman speeds. Wait, how in Nayru's name am I able to run so fast? People, buildings, and lights are rushing past me in a blur.

I realize that, unlike the alley I was just in, the lot will probably have better lighting. Therefore, as to prevent Ghirahim from recognizing me, I'll need a better disguise rather than this hoodie. But what? Are there any disguise shops in Castle Town?

I stop running when I catch sight of the name of the street I'm on: W. Market Street. This is where my uncle was killed.

"Yoo-hoo!" shouts an all-too-familiar voice. "Come and get your masks! Quality, fun masks here! Reasonable prices!"

Ugh. It's Mr. Masca doing his overnight job.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, indeed.

I sigh heavily, then head toward my cranky biology teacher's brown Dodge truck. To avoid detection, I turn my Hyrule Academy hoodie inside-out and put it back on, throwing the hood over my head once again. This way, Mr. Masca can't see the logo on my sweatshirt, but I can keep the hood on.

"Hey," I say in a husky voice.

"Hello, valued potential customer! I am the Happy Mask Salesman! Would you like—"

"Hush, please," I caution.

He fixes his eyes on me with a confused glare. "Are you the one who the cops are after? In that case, I refuse to sell you my merchandise."

"No, they're not after me. But I think I'm being followed by someone." Well, the first sentence wasn't a lie.

"So you want a disguise, eh? Let me see what I've got. You'll want somethin' subtle, so you won't stand out in a crowd. Hmm…" Rupin digs through his backpack, eventually pulling something out with a triumphant "Aha!"

I study the item resting in his pale hands. It appears to be a pointy, forest green cap. "May I try it on?"

"Of course."

He's a lot more polite to customers than to his students, I note.

I throw the cap over my dirty-blonde hair, smoothing it out. A triangular point in the front hangs down below my eyebrows and shades my eyes. The cap flows in the back as I move.

"How does it feel?" the Happy Mask Salesman inquires.

"Makes me feel a little like Connor Kenway," I mutter under my breath, flipping the frontal point with my forefinger. "It's cool. I won't be recognized in this."

He smiles widely. "Of course. I feel like you were born to wear this cap."

"So how much?"

"Twenty rupees, please."

I dig in my pocket for a red rupee, hoping to Din I have one. Finally I pull one out, flip it to my biology teacher, take the green cap, and leave.

"Thank you, kind sir! Come again! Tell your friends!"

I will do neither of those things.

The inside-out sweatshirt is giving me an uncomfortable itch, so I take it off and fix it. If Ghirahim sees the Hyrule Academy logo, he won't recognize me, anyway; Vaati didn't, after all. (Or did he?) Next I throw on the cap, then continue north toward the lot.

The sirens grow increasingly distant, so either I'm just insanely fast or the police have stopped far back. Who are the cops after, anyway? Vaati, maybe? That would explain why the police stopped. But that means that they'll come after Ghirahim next.

Hmm, maybe if I take care of Ghirahim for them, they'll let me question him once he's arrested.

With this thought in mind, I leave W. Market Street and continue north one block, carefully merging within crowds of pedestrians to not seem too sketchy.

Finally I pass a run-down dental office and peer around the corner. Several dented, windowless, and spray-painted cars riddle the nearly-desolate parking lot. Above all this, a flickering sign reads: Gongoron's Parking. The "P" in "Parking" is slanted, dangling from one hinge and creaking ominously when the wind pushes it.

I take a deep breath, pull the front of my cap down a tad, and step cautiously into the parking lot. Swiveling my head, I search the area intently for Ghirahim, but I come up short.

Suddenly a car alarm goes off to my right. I frantically whip my head in that direction, noticing it's a police car, but no one is around it. My heart pounds vigorously against my chest.

The car alarm keeps ringing, over and over.

A cloaked figure comes out from underneath the shadows of the parking lot sign, and I scramble to hide behind a busted up Nissan. "I'm coming!" shouts the cloaked guy, heading toward the cop car. "I'm coming. Turn the damn horn off, Sakon."

The alarm stops, followed by two beeps that signal its deactivation. From behind the dental office comes a pale, bald man with the keys in his palm. He looks like a pasty, scrawny version of Vin Diesel, I muse. With his bland, gray eyes, the man—apparently named Sakon—gazes intensely at the cloaked figure. "You're much too late, Ghirahim. And take that cape off. You want to look professional for the boss."

Ganondorf is here? That means I can bring him to justice, also!

Ghirahim begrudgingly removes the cloak, tossing it against the hood of the cop car. "Is the boss ready to see me?"

Sakon snorts. "He _was_—a half hour ago. You know how impatient he gets."

"Then why'd you make me take off the—"

"Because it's dumb," he interrupts bluntly. "Now where is Vaati?"

Exasperated, Ghirahim rolls his eyes. "He had to stay back. I don't know why, but he should be here by now."

"Is he the reason the sirens were going off? If he was caught—"

"Dammit, he probably was," Ghirahim curses. "I just hope he can talk his way out of this one."

Sakon shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the hood of the police car. "I got the car from the station," he announces.

"Yeah, I saw it," Ghirahim grunts curtly. He taps the window of the glass. "Bulletproof?"

"Completely." Sakon gives him a stale smile. "The boss was very pleased."

"Shut up. You're not doing better than I am, Sakon; I tracked down the boss's next target—some kid at my school with inhuman strength."

Shit. Ganondorf was the "large person" Ghirahim mentioned—which means Ganondorf will know that I go to Hyrule Academy. Vaati's (probably and hopefully) already taken care of, so I don't have to worry about him. If I take care of Ghirahim before he can relay this information to Ganondorf, my cover won't be blown.

The police will just have to get here soon.

"Well at least I can make a deadline." As Ghirahim fumes at his comment, Sakon looks toward the street as the sounds of distant sirens re-emerge. "I'm going to go back to the station, see if I can get another car. You take this one. Maybe you can convince the cops to move Vaati into your car."

"How would I do that?"

Sakon shrugs, his face blank and devoid of emotion. "I don't know. But if you pulled that off, the boss would be pleased with you for once."

"Go to hell."

Sakon merely shrugs in reply, then breaks off into a nonchalant jog down the sidewalk.

Ghirahim disdainfully shakes his head, mutters something indecipherable under his breath, and opens the door of the police car. He plops down in the driver's seat, grabs the wheel, and sighs heavily. He doesn't start it, though; he's probably deciding whether or not to go through with Sakon's (admittedly, pretty careless) plan.

Now's _my_ chance to initiate a careless plan. I dart out from behind the Nissan and out into the open, sprint to the stolen cop car, and wrench the door open.

Ghirahim whips his head in my direction, shouts a strangled, "Hey!" and tumbles out of the car as I throw him.

I stare down at him, fury blazing in my shaded eyes. I deepen my voice and demand through clenched teeth, "Where is the boss?!"

Ghirahim's eyes widen in fear. "A-Aghanim? Is… that you?"

"Aghanim?" I repeat. "No! Tell me where Dragmire is!"

"He's not here!" Ghirahim shouts, slowly rising to his feet. "And whoever you are… You must work for the Y.U.G.A.—Cia's not getting ahold of him anytime soon."

Y.U.G.A.? That's what Vaati spray painted over the M.O.D.'s symbol. Could that be another gang? Could Vaati be a traitor?

"What is this Y.U.G.A. you speak of?" I inquire through my husky Batman-like voice.

"You… don't work for them, do you?" he cooes. "Of course not! Look at your sweatshirt—you go to my school!"

I drop my gaze to the Hyrule Academy logo.

"And where was I directly before leaving for this mission?" he asks rhetorically, eyes narrowing. "The lounge."

Shit. He knows it's me.

"Which is where _you_ were, Gaiden." Ghirahim sneers devilishly, slowly withdrawing a metallic pistol. "See, you may be extremely strong. But can you withstand a bullet?"

I snort. "Oh, please. You won't even hit me. I could shoot better than you with a Duck Hunt gun."

Ghirahim grumbles impatiently. "You know somethin', kid? You've made some bad choices. Why on earth would you enter the city where your killer is waiting? Why would you _live_ there? And why would you follow one of his servants into the city in the middle of the night?"

I narrow my eyes at him, clenching my fists. "For revenge." As Ghirahim scoffs, taunting me, I can feel my fury rushing to my glowing hand, craving release. I set my feet, take in heavy breaths, and point my arm at him. The energy courses through my veins, until finally it reaches my fingertips, causing them to tingle and go numb, and it shoots out in one small, golden bolt of electricity.

Ghirahim yelps as it strikes his chest, thrashes violently against the side of the police car, then collapses against the pavement.

I stand there, my breath railing within my throat, then trot over to Ghirahim's unconscious body. Pulling down the sleeve, I check for the tattoo. On the wrist is, just as I'd suspected, the circular curve of a crescent moon, inked in an onyx black shade.

"The Men of Demise," I whisper to myself.

Sirens blare all around me, driving up and pulling to a stop in and around Gongoron's Parking. I yank the cap further over my face and scan the area. Nine cars, at least fifteen policemen.

"THIS IS CTPD. PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND REMAIN CALM."

Other cops mimic the megaphone by shouting, "Hands up! Hands up!" and pointing their guns… at me.

_At me!_

"Hey, hey!" I shout. "Don't be mad at me, now! I did your job for you!"

"SIR, PUT YOUR HANDS UP NOW."

"No—listen to me!" I plead. "I took care of this guy for you!" I make my way over to the lead car to plead my case further.

"WE HAVE AUTHORIZATION TO ENGAGE. STEP AWAY FROM THE VEHICLE."

I reluctantly obey, backing up hesitantly.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

"What?!" I shout.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD, SIR!"

I squint dubiously at the policemen.

"You know what, screw this."

I break off into a full sprint down the street, hearing the sirens grow increasingly distant as I continue.

* * *

Tuesday, October 10

"Link, I know it was you."

"It wasn't me."

"The evidence is incriminating. I know you did it. Please just confess."

"I'm not confessing to anything, Shad."

"You're my partner in this case, Link. With our combined efforts, you're making me look better to the chief. So I won't turn you in."

"You would do that?"

"Yes, so you can tell me."

"I didn't do it."

Detective Shad releases an exasperated sigh, leaning back into his chair. "Ugh. Look: you, Anemoi, and Daemon were all gone from the academy last night between the hours eight and ten. Anemoi was found lying unconscious in an alley near Market Street. Daemon was incapacitated beside a stolen police car in a run-down parking lot. When questioned, they both stated that you—Link Gaiden—were the one who did this.

"And not only that, we have footage of a five-foot-eleven male in a Hyrule Academy sweatshirt." He waves his hand outward, an accusative scowl on his forehead. "Could it be any more clear?"

"Listen, Officer—"

"Detective."

"Stuff it, rook. You're still an officer to me," I tease with a small smirk. Shad rolls his eyes. "I'm not admitting that I did anything. Honestly I think he—the guy that was there in the parking lot who kicked Daemon's ass—got totally screwed over by the cops. But I thought you were trying to help me solve the murder of my uncle, not _this_ stupid misunderstanding."

Shad sighs heavily. "Unfortunately for _you_—or the hypothetical guy who kicked Daemon's ass in the parking lot—I was appointed to _solve_ this stupid misunderstanding, as well as your uncle's murder."

"What?" I exclaim.

Great. So this guy is working with me _and_ against me.

"Link, your case is much too important for me to take the other one seriously, so… I'll get the chief to drop it. No harm done." Just as I breathe a sigh of relief, he continues: "As long as you stay out of trouble and don't pop up on the headlines again."

"You mean as long as the hypothetical badass guy doesn't?" I correct with a grin.

Shad rolls his eyes again with a smirk. "Okay, now I definitely know it's you."

I tap my forefinger to my lips and grin deviously.

* * *

**Link got his trademark cap—with a tiny bit of an Assassin's Creed touch to it. Think of it like Link's regular cap with an additional point in the front (but obviously not as long as the one on the back. This one ends just at the bridge of his nose). I did this because Link's regular cap would give away his identity, but this one will hide a bit of his face.**

**I know that this chapter won't appeal to some of you who would rather see Link and company in the high school setting. But don't worry. There will be a good amount of both action and high school.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	5. Investigator

**Guys, I truly appreciate all the compliments. Your reviews are fueling me to keep this going!**

**Chapter five… the chapter where things happen. Enjoy!**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter** **5: Investigator**

* * *

Tuesday, October 10

"Ugh, who is that douche?" I demand from my lunch seat, strategically and subtly gazing at the guy who's hitting on Zelda.

Sheik rolls his eyes and grunts, "Not you, so shut up."

I scoff. "Look at him. What a total jackass."

The guy leans a hand casually on her lunch table, an arrogant—or failed attempt at seductive—smirk plastered on his dumb, spray-tanned face. Zelda smiles up at him politely in return.

"Dude," Sheik begins, "you are peanut butter and _jealous._ I thought you said you didn't like Zelda!"

"I… don't," I reply hesitantly.

He narrows his eyes at me. "Then quit drooling over her and the guys who hit on 'er."

"I'm not drooling over the guys who hit on her, Sheik."

"Then quit lookin' over there or people are gonna think it."

I squint at him. "What's your deal today? You seem different."

"No," he rebuts, "I'm just trying to give you a reality check. 'Cause—hypothetically—if you _do_ like her, then you would have asked her out by now, correct?"

I bite my lip. "Well…"

"I knew it!" he shouts. "You do like her, but you're too much of a wimp to ask her out."

I stare at him. "Really."

"Yeah."

"Really."

"Yeah."

"You hypocrite! What about _Malon,_ huh? How long did it take _you_ to ask her out?"

"Okay, I knew you were going to—"

"Forty-one months and thirteen days, by my estimate," announces Pipit from behind us. I turn around to nod at the brunette boy.

"Sweet Din," Sheik exclaims, "you should work at a carnival."

Pipit smirks. "I tried—they're pretty strict with background checks." As the both of us squint at him suspiciously, Pipit continues: "But that's beside the point. You, sir, have known Malon since the eighth grade. Yet you were too lame to ask her out."

"Yeah, and how are things going with Karane?"

"Stay on the subject!" he snaps back.

I chuckle a bit, then avert my attention to Pipit. "Wait, so you like Karane again?"

Pipit sighs, defeated, and sinks into the chair across from me. Resting his chin pathetically on the table, he says, "I don't know… Every time I get near her she pushes me away, and—Wait." He pauses, glaring pointedly at me. "Did you say… _'again'_? Who told you that I liked Karane before?"

Uh oh.

"Who told you the story?!" he exclaims, pounding his fist on the table.

I bite my lip. "…Zelda."

"Zel? I told her never to speak of that event ever again!"

"Why does it bother you so much?" I ask. "I mean… I'm sure you've done worse."

Shaking his head quickly, Pipit says, "No, no, no no _no._ That was the biggest mistake—the _greatest catastrophe_—my otherwise amazing life has ever seen. I screwed up so bad that… that Karane didn't talk to me for four months. _Four months_!"

I nod. "And yet you still wanna be my life mentor?"

Ignoring me, Pipit continues. "So I vowed to never pursue Karane unless she made it perfectly clear that she reciprocates my feelings. I won't risk losing her as a friend again."

Sheik snorts.

Turning his head to him, Pipit inquires, "And what was that about, Sheik?"

"You said you're not pursuing Karane right now?"

"Right."

Sheik exclaims, "But you're still flirting your ass off with her!"

Smirking, Pipit takes a seat next to the blonde boy and raises his eyebrows at him. "You think _that_ is pursuing her?"

"Well, yeah—"

"Oh, Sheiky Sheik Sheik," he murmurs, shaking his head with an amused grin. "So much you don't know about my womanizing tactics."

"So," I begin, "you're trying to say that if you tried, Karane would be yours."

"Yes."

I smirk. "And how'd that work out for you at homecoming sophomore year?"

Sheik grins, shouting, "_Oooh_!"

He blinks at me. "Screw you both. I'm getting an enchilada," he mutters, standing up abruptly and tromping off toward the lunch kiosk.

Sheik and I chuckle as we observe his hissy-fit. "You think he's really mad?" I ask.

"Nah," he assures, "Pip's just sensitive when it comes to Karane."

"What now?" asks a feminine voice from behind me.

Sheik's eyes widen in fear, and I turn around to see.

Crap. It's Karane.

Blinking multiple times, Sheik stammers, "…I, uh—"

"Pipit's sensitive when it comes to me?" she asks, eyes narrowing pointedly at Sheik.

"N-no!" Sheik shouts, startling the redheaded girl. "That's, uh… not what I said."

"Um… okay," Karane says, rolling her eyes, unconvinced.

"Sheik said that Pipit was sensitive to hair pain," I spit out.

Karane scrunches her eyes. "Hair pain?"

Just now, Pipit saunters back to our table, casually plopping down next to Sheik. "Oh, hey, Karane," he greets upon noticing her.

"Here, I'll demonstrate," Sheik announces, gripping a fistful of Pipit's brunette hair and yanking it upward.

"YOUCH!"

"See?"

Karane giggles, "Heh, what a girl." As she walks off, Pipit watches her go with pained eyes.

"What the hell, Sheik?!" he shouts, pounding a fist on the table.

Amused, he grins."We had to come up with an excuse, or—"

"Shut it," Pipit orders indignantly. "I'm coming for you, Sheik." He narrows his eyes, glaring daggers at the blonde boy. "Revenge will be mine."

With that, Pipit dramatically stands up and, with a huff, stalks off to another table.

I share a look with Sheik, and we both burst out laughing.

* * *

Biology class is a total bitch-slap in the face. Only because of the Happy Drug—err, _Mask_—Salesman.

Being Zelda's partner for an upcoming project allows me to sit next to her, however, which is definitely an improvement.

"So, students," says the teacher, beginning to stroll around the classroom to pass out papers, "here is a list of possible experiments for you to do."

"We're doing an experiment?" pipes up Arian, who sits next to Leo at our table of four. "Why?"

"Because I am assigning it, Mr. Tate," snaps the teacher.

"Ooh, Mr. Tate…" Arian teases, raising his eyebrows. "I like the way you say that, Rupee."

Rupin fumes at him. "Quit fake-flirting with me, kid. I know you're obsessed with women."

"What, Rupee, are you jelly?" he asks flamboyantly. The class giggles in response.

"Quit calling me that."

"Mmkay, Rupert."

"Get out of my class."

"Why, 'cause I'm gay?"

"Out." He points to the door.

Arian hops up from his seat, then shuffles out, his hips swaying left and right in an exaggerated manner. Once at the door, he turns back to the class, huffs loudly, and mutters, "Men."

Rupin rolls his eyes as Arian exits the classroom with another dramatic sigh.

Zelda stifles a giggle, and I chuckle too. "That guy is hilarious."

Leo nods. "Yeah, he likes to mess with teachers. He's not really gay, though."

"Well, even _I_ know that," I say. "He gets the ladies. Apparently he and Pipit have a rivalry, huh?"

"Yeah, it's not too competitive, though," he explains. "They're buds."

Mr. Masca finally makes his way over to us, plastering on a fake grin and bowing. "Miss Zelda Harkinian, here is your paper."

"Um, thanks," Zelda replies, taking it gingerly.

Rupin glares at me before moving on and handing Leo a sheet. "Thank you, kind sir," Leo says with a dramatic bow that mimicked Rupin's.

"Don't mock me, cretin."

When he is out of earshot, Leo mutters, "Wow. What a kiss-ass, huh, Zelda?"

"Yeah," she groans. "He's been bugging my dad for like a year to get a raise. So now he's taken to treating me like gold."

The way she should be treated, I think to myself. Not the way Red Elvis—err, Groose—does. He just drools over her, and pouts when she pushes him away.

"You know, Link," Zelda says, snapping me out of my thoughts, "I still haven't gotten a text from you." She smiles teasingly.

Oh, right. I forgot about that.

"Sorry," I say. "I've been a bit… distracted lately."

Zelda shakes her head. "Nah, I'm only messing with you. But I would like to get to know you better, but without our friends—or the teachers—breathing down our necks." She points to Rupin, who watches me from his desk disdainfully.

I grin. "Yeah, okay."

Malon and Midna pull up chairs and come to sit at our table. "Hey. Mind if we sit here?" Malon asks.

"Yeah, sure," Leo responds. "Just don't break anything, Midna."

Midna grins. "I'm not promising anything." She turns her attention to me. "Yo, kid."

I raise my eyebrows. "Hm?"

"If you're planning on dating Zel," she points to her blonde friend, whose eyes widen, "then you'd better treat her well, or I will personally snap you in half."

I feel my face heat up. "I'm not—No, I… I'm not—!"

I frantically look to Zelda for assistance, but she is in the same boat as I am. Cheeks red as cherries, it was actually pretty cute. "Midna!" she whines.

Zelda simply earns a nonchalant shrug from her friend.

* * *

After a painfully long session of not knowing how to do anything in Comp. Skills, the school day is finally over.

"Mr. Minish treated you alright today," comments Pipit, walking next to me toward the exit.

"You kidding? He gave me detention for _'cutting class'_ and _'slamming the door too hard'._"

"So, are you gonna go to detention?"

"Hell no," I grunt. "I ain't spending any more time with Ezlo than I have to."

Pipit shrugs. "Well, in this case, you sorta have to."

"Or what?"

"Or you get sent to the headmaster's office."

"Oh, goodie. It'll give me a chance to give him an earful about that old geezer."

"What makes you think that he will listen to you bitch about a teacher who has been here longer than you've been alive?"

"The fact that I have his sympathy," I reply cunningly with a smirk.

"Good point."

My phone rings from my pocket. I take it out, and I'm surprised to see that it's Talo calling me. I answer it excitedly, greeting, "Hey, Talo!"

"Link! What's up, bud?"

"Well I just got done with school," I reply, nodding in thanks to Pipit for patiently waiting for me.

"Same here. Get this: I talked to my dad's buddy Renado, and he agreed to take me in!"

"So… you're going to Lakeside?!"

"Yeah, man!"

"That's awesome!" I gush. "When?"

"Next week. And you know what that means? I'll get to visit the good ol' LinkBron James."

"And I will once again get to destroy the good ol' Downtown Talo Brown."

"I ain't Freddie Brown. If anything, I'm Tay Thompson."

"Who?"

"Y'know. Klay."

"LeBron swatted Klay Thompson."

"Klay swatted Kyrie Irving."

"So?"

"They're teammates, LeBron and Kyrie."

"Whatever. LeBron has swatted everyone on the Warriors."

"Just remember who's the best team in the league."

Pipit claps a hand on my shoulder. "I hate to interrupt," he says, "but I think you should see this." From the entrance hall corner, we gaze at the group of four boys congregating near the gymnasium entrance, all decked out in athletic gear. Zelda stands among them with her back pressed to the wall, shyly looking away from the advances of the guys.

"Uh, Talo? I've gotta go. Talk soon?"

"Of course, man. No worries."

"Okay, later." I hang up.

"Yeah, you should, like, totally come watch our basketball practice!" one douche says to Zelda.

"It's gonna be sick!" says another.

"You dipshits can't even make a lay-in," mutters a third.

The fourth guy stands proudly in the middle, a cheesy sneer forming at his lips as he slicks back his ridiculous pompadour. Groose. "Guys, guys. Don't pester the lovely lady."

Zelda rolls her eyes. "Groose, you're pestering me the most. I'm only here for my friend Malon, alright? She's at volleyball right now."

"It's too bad _you_ don't play volleyball, princess," grunts a hormonal idiot. "I'd love to see your sexy ass in spandex."

"I'd love to see your not-so-sexy ass kicked," she shoots back. "Leave me alone, 'kay?"

"Yeah, you bunch of pricks," chimes Groose. "Leave 'er alone! Give her the space she deserves."

"What are—?"

"Are you shittin' me—?"

"Groose—"

"Shut up!" bellows the oaf, thrusting his chest out arrogantly. "As a young lad, I was taught one thing in particular: chivalry trumps all desire."

One of his buddies snorts. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Pshhh, no," says another. "He probably found it online and says it to sound more smarter."

"More smarter?"

"You're a dumbass."

"Shut up, you fags."

As their language becomes more vulgar, they finally leave Zelda's presence and enter the gym.

"What're you doing just staring at her?" Pipit asks frantically. "Get over there and talk to her!"

"You think I should? I mean, she'll think I'm a bit of a wuss for not protecting her from—"

"Dude," he interrupts, "you're not her bodyguard. Let her fight her own battles every now and then."

I shrug, then nod.

"Link, c'mon! Go talk to her."

I bite my bottom lip. What do I say? Those guys had some solid pickup lines? I'll kick their asses next time? I'm sorry I was too much of a wimp to go over there and help you?

Wait, why am I freaking out so much? I've been able to talk to Zelda. Y'know, once in a while, mostly during biology. But yeah, I can do this.

I start to walk over there, but stop when yet another guy walks up to her. "I assume you get those guys a lot," he says.

Zelda nods. "Sadly, yeah."

"Don't worry, I'm nothing like them. I've just heard about you, and I would like to get to know you."

Crap. I can't do this. I can't go over there.

Everything about this guy _screams_ cool. He's got on gray cargo pants, a nice black knit hoodie, and a freakin' Rolex on his wrist. Damn.

He's classy. Like a teenaged Bradley Cooper. But with shorter, redder hair and less product in it. Hell, he's even got the eyes.

"Okay," Zelda says with a faint smile.

"I'm Ralph," he says, extending a hand. "Ralph Ambi. It's nice to finally meet you, Zelda."

Zelda takes his hand hesitantly. "…You—"

"Zellie!" shrieks Malon, bursting through the gym doors. "These guys kept stalking us—Oh, hello."

Ralph pays no attention to the fact that Malon is practically standing there in her underwear, and instead looks her straight in the eye with his icy blues. "Hey. Ralph Ambi. You're Malon, right?"

"…Y-yeah," she murmurs quietly.

Pipit looks sternly at me. "What are you going to do?" he asks in a hushed voice. "You're letting your girl get away!"

"I'm not gonna do anything!" I whisper back loudly. "She's not my girl, anyway." I shrug helplessly. "She can fight her own battles, right?"

Pipit shakes his head vigorously. "Nuh-uh. Not this time." Leaving me at the corner, he dashes over to the two of them, shouting, "Hey! Ambi!"

Ralph groans, turning away from Zelda and glaring daggers at the brunette boy. "Westbrook…"

"She's out of your league, kid," Pipit chides. "Why don't you just leave."

"What, so I can't have a simple conversation with her?" Ralph complains. "Who are you to tell me that, anyway?"

"One of her good friends," Malon answers.

Ralph looks between the three of them, rolls his eyes, and grunts, "Fine, whatever. I would like to start over sometime though, Zelda, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, sure," she replies.

With one last glare sent to Pipit, Ralph saunters down the hall toward the exit.

Mind made up, I make my way over to Zelda, Malon, and Pipit. "What's that guy's deal with you?" I ask the boy.

Pipit groans, "Ugh, he's a total dickwad."

"Y'know, he's not that bad," Zelda says with a light shrug. "He's funny and a lot nicer than most other guys."

I laugh. "Well that's because most other guys are complete jerks to girls like you. Pipit included."

"Cheap shot, man."

"But well-deserved," Malon jeers.

Zelda sighs. "Yeah, people like Groose and his buddies… There's something about them that I hate."

"Everything?" I guess.

"Yeah." Grinning, Zelda turns her attention to Malon. "Girl, put some pants on over those."

"Oh. Right."

"I'm not complaining," Pipit comments.

"Shut up, Pip," Malon mutters. "You know I'm taken."

"You know, I think Sheik is actually gay."

"Yeah, and how was that manicure you got the other day?"

"Invigorating, thanks."

Malon rolls her eyes and giggles, then walks away toward the locker room.

Pipit looks between the two of us, grins, and announces, "Well, I gotta jet. I've got some bad habits to feed. See you guys later!" He dashes out of sight before I have the chance to protest.

Clearly he's trying to leave me alone with Zelda.

Zelda offers me a small smile, then averts her eyes to the floor. "Why'd you leave last night?" she questions quietly, now meeting my eyes.

"Hm?" Oh, right. Last night I bailed on our group at the lounge. "Oh, um… I had to find out what Ghirahim was talking about."

"Did you?"

I resist opening up about exactly what happened and instead I shake my head. "…No." I drop my eyes to the floor.

Zelda reaches out and—to my surprise—touches my arm gently with her delicate hand. "Hey…"

I hesitantly meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry that everyone's troubling you," she says softly, sincerely.

I'm really tempted to pull her into my arms right now. I shake my head, murmuring something along the lines of "I'm okay."

Zelda smiles sadly, then retracts her hand from my arm. "I… should probably go. My father's expecting me."

"Alright," I say. "I'll see you around?" I phrase it as a question, more so than a statement.

"Of course," she says with a sincere grin, turning to walk away toward her father's office.

With a spring in my step, I smile tomyself and head out of the academy.

* * *

"Have you guys noticed that Ghirahim and Vaati weren't at school today?" blurts out Mido.

Oh crap. I forgot about them. What happened to those two losers?

"Yeah," Sheik says nonchalantly with a shrug, "but they probably just skipped. Nothing different there."

We sit at the lounge—Mido, Pipit, Sheik, and I—while snacking on hot wings and "collaborating on homework." We haven't even unzipped our backpacks. True scholars, we are.

"I heard they got sent to juvie!" Pipit exclaims. "It's what Arian told me—he knows just about every rumor around."

"Juvie? Again?" Sheik questions. "What'd they do this time, huh?"

Pipit shrugs. "I don't know, but there's footage of the guy who caught them on the news."

My heart thuds against my chest.

"Who's the guy?" Mido asks.

"No one knows. Here, I'll look it up on my phone." Pipit taps on the screen of his cell, eventually showing it to the rest of us. "Look."

A figure stands next to a police car and in front of a person crippled on the pavement, wearing a dark green cap that shades his eyes. The back point of the cap flows in the breeze as the figure raises both his hands defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, pause it," Sheik tells him. "Look at his sweatshirt. It's the Hyrule Academy logo."

Our group grows quiet.

"Hit play," I tell Pipit in order to not be suspiciously silent. "I want to see what happens."

The figure dashes away from the police, sprinting down the street in a blur. The video abruptly ends as the cops shout out.

I'm on the Internet. Shit.

"Did you see how freakin' _fast_ he was running?!" Mido shouts. "He was like Usain Bolt! Only faster!"

"Faster than Bolt?" Sheik asks with raised eyebrows. "Dude, his name is literally _Bolt._ Nobody's faster."

"I beg to differ. Wanna see the video again?"

A little too quickly, I interrupt, "Th-that won't be necessary."

Everyone looks at me. "Why not?" Mido asks.

"Eh… motion sickness," I lie. "I'll throw up all over you guys."

"Uh, gross," Pipit comments. "Okay, whatever. So if that speedy guy goes to our school, who do you guys think he is?"

I flinch, but no one notices.

"Jermain."

"LaShaun."

"Randal."

"Dale."

"Jason."

"Me."

"You wish, Mido."

I shrug. "Well, maybe he just found that sweatshirt and doesn't really go here. Honestly there can't be anyone that fast at our school."

Pipit snorts. "Says the guy who's been here for half a week."

"Yeah, man," Sheik says, "we've got some athletes."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever, dude. I'll only believe it when I see it with my own eyes."

"So, speaking of whatever," Pipit begins, "what went down between you and Zel after I bailed?"

"How does that have to do with anything?" I ask in a dull tone.

"Just answer the question."

I find the memory involuntarily repeating in my mind; I see her dazzling eyes and smile, her beautiful face, and her utmost sincerity when she told me she was sorry.

Against my will, I find myself smiling. "Nothing really—" I cut myself off when I see their accusative facial expressions. "—Shut up. Nothing really happened. I mean, she said something nice to me, but that's just about it."

"What'd she say?" Mido asks.

"Your hair looks good?" Sheik guesses.

"She likes your pretty eyes?" Mido chuckles.

"Your Vans are out of style?" Pipit asks, gesturing to my green and white shoes.

"What? No—you guys are idiots. She just said she was sorry."

"For what?" Mido asks.

Before I can answer, Sheik interrupts, "Wait, wait. I've got this. She's sorry that you're not as awesome as I am?"

"No—"

"She's sorry that the Celtics suck?" Mido says.

"They were seventh in the East—"

"She's sorry that she's out of your league?" Pipit says.

"No!" I shout, earning a chorus of snickers from the group. "…And _'pretty eyes,'_ Mido? Really?"

He shrugs. "Couldn't think of anything else."

"Anyway, she said she was sorry for everyone who's been troubling me."

"Aww, how sweet," Pipit cooes, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his fists.

"Shut up. It was nice of her."

"Yeah, Link," Sheik agrees. "Zelda doesn't usually treat guys so nicely. You're the only one she's been this kind to. Maybe you're the one she's looking for."

Pipit blinks at him. "Dude."

He shrugs. "What can I say? Malon turned me into a romantic."

Pipit snorts, turning to look at me and Mido. "Who knew that being in a committed, straight relationship could make a guy so gay."

We snicker in response.

Sheik elbows him. "Hey, stop it. Don't you see that Link could have a chance to achieve something amazing?"

"I'm sorry, I don't speak virgin." Pipit smirks. "Tell you what. You keep lecturing Link about which nail polish to use, and I'll go chat up that hot blonde over there like a real man. Ready, break!" He dashes out of the booth toward the girl sitting at the counter.

Sheik shakes his head, exasperated. "I'm sure that there's someone out there with a tranquilizer looking for that guy."

I laugh. "Yeah, probably." I take a hot wing from the plate in the center.

Mido lifts his chin sharply, grabbing my attention. "Bro. Explain your situation to me."

"Situation?" I repeat through the chicken stuffed in my mouth.

"With Zelda."

I swallow the food, then heave a sigh. "Well, I dunno… Yeah, she's beautiful and funny and sweet and—getting off topic. But I just… don't want a girlfriend."

Sheik fixes me with a quizzical look. "But if Zelda liked you back, would you want to date her?"

"Yeah—Wait, no. Err…" I bite my lip in thought. "I really don't know."

"Farore, Link, what _do_ you know?" Mido asks, waving his hand outward. "You like Zelda, she probably likes you, so—"

"So I wait forty-one months and thirteen days to ask her out," I interrupt with a nod to Sheik.

"Cheap shot."

Mido chuckles. "Yeah, you could do almost anything but that. No offense, but Zelda's so hot that she'll reel in twenty guys hotter than you in no time, if you let her get away."

I nod. "Stands to reason."

"Well," Sheik begins, "my advice is to spend as much time with her as you want. Flirt, be gentlemanly, whatever. Maybe after you two become closer you'll change your mind. Then maybe you could date her."

I nod, but I shut out the wistful thoughts that surface. I know that I probably won't change my mind. Or, at least for a while. My uncle's death has rendered me—what's the word? Not paranoid; just cautious and realistic.

The goddesses are practically against me right now, so I might as well protect others from my misfortune.

Huh. It's odd how this incident has completely flipped my outlook on life from optimistic to pessimistic.

"Well, well, well."

I look up, seeing the familiar red hair resting atop a freckled face.

"The few friends of Westbrook."

It's Ralph Ambi.

"Hey, Ralph," says Mido. "Wanna sit?"

"Sure," Ralph responds with a grin. He takes the empty seat next to Sheik and begins to chat with the blonde boy.

I lean overt to whisper angrily in Mido's ear, "What are you doing, inviting him to sit with us?"

He fixes me with a puzzled look.

"Pipit hates him, plus he's got his eye on Zelda!"

Mido rolls his eyes. "I thought you don't want Zelda to be your girlfriend. In that case, she's fair game."

I struggle to form a response.

"And Pip hates him 'cause Ralph has this thing where he goes around stealing the girls who Pipit strikes out with. 'Wasn't that guy an idiot?' is always a good icebreaker, he claims."

I smirk.

"We don't hate him. He's not bad."

"I'm not sure about that yet."

"Oh, you're just jealous."

"For logical reasons!"

Sheik kicks me from under the table, and I stifle a grimace. Oh, yeah. I should introduce myself. I am Link, the new kid from the slums who has the hots for the girl who you have the hots for. That seems solid.

"I'm Link," I say, extending a hand.

Ralph smiles effortlessly, shaking my hand with a firm grip. "Cool. Ralph Ambi. Hater of Pipits, achiever of success, charmer of ladies."

"And humble, too," I mutter.

Mido elbows me in the side. I elbow him back.

"Well, I've gotta split," he announces, to my relief. "Stay thirsty, my friends." With that, Ralph exits our booth and leaves.

"How could you guys let that backstabbing, pretentious, douchey jackass sit in our booth?!" demands the voice of Pipit, who stomps over to us.

"Don't worry," I assure him, "I already don't like the guy."

"Good."

"You kidding?" Sheik asks. "Ralph is cool."

I shake my head. "If you're a girl, yeah. His Rolex is just a beacon for gold-diggers. If you're a dude, he's a…" I pause. "Pipit?"

"A backstabbing, pretentious, douchey jackass."

"Exactly," I conclude.

"Pfft. Link, you just hate him 'cause he was hitting on Zelda," Sheik points out.

"One of my reasons, yes."

Pipit collapses into the booth, defeated, and elicits a pathetic groan. "Unghh…"

Sheik flicks him on the head. "What's wrong with you?"

Pipit slowly struggles to sit up. "I'm in a bit of a dry spell."

"How so?"

"…I can't seem to focus. My game is off. And Ralph keeps swooping in and taking the women I fail to seduce like a starving vulture."

"A starving vulture?" Sheik repeats. "Really, that's the metaphor you're going with here?"

Pipit rolls his eyes at the blonde boy. "Sheik, it's a simile."

Sheik blinks.

"I… just… can't focus!" Pipit clenches his fist and scrunches his face up. "GAAAH! I need electrolytes! I'm gonna go get a Gatorade."

And he leaves us yet again.

"Why's he so distracted?" I ask.

"Maybe it's 'cause he likes Karane again," Sheik guesses. "I mean, think about it. He can't focus while hitting on any girls—it's gotta be 'cause he's thinking about Karane."

"Oooh," Mido and I blurt simultaneously.

"If he likes Karane, though," I begin, "then why does he still hit on random girls?"

Sheik shrugs. "I dunno. Guess he just can't keep his dick in his pants."

Mido and I smirk.

"Did Malon tell you anything about how Karane feels about him?" he asks Sheik.

"She doesn't really know," Sheik replies. "Karane keeps quiet about that subject."

"Makes sense," Mido chuckles. "If I were her, I wouldn't want to go around saying I'm in love with a man-whore."

"Good point."

* * *

Wednesday, October 11

At lunch the next day, Sheik and Pipit are suspiciously missing. That's odd, considering they were both in P.E. with me only minutes earlier. No one at our table questions their absence, either, so maybe it's normal for them to skip lunch every now and then.

After a bit of conversation, I find them heading toward our table. Pipit strolls merrily toward us with a spring in his step, stifling his laughter as Sheik plods along with a glazed expression.

"Where were you guys?" I ask when they sit in their respective seats.

Pipit can no longer withhold his laughter and bursts out into a fit of snickers.

"P.E.," Sheik replies dully.

Pipit regains his composure, straightening his face slightly. "Wait, you didn't hear?"

"No… What?"

"Oh my goddesses," Pipit begins, a smile growing on his face, barely able to contain his excitement. "Link. Link. Look at me. Link."

"Dude, I am _looking_ at you."

"You've gotta hear this story. It's hilarious." He pauses, raising a finger in the air. "In fact, it is so hilarious that I almost don't want to tell you the story, because when I do, you will never hear anything this funny ever again, and then you will forever regret asking me to tell you the story."

I blink at him.

"But you've gotta hear the story. It's so funny."

"Then just tell me the story!"

Pipit raises his eyebrows at the blonde boy sitting across from him. "Sheik?"

"Fine." Sheik sighs heavily. "So we were in the locker room getting ready to leave P.E.—"

"No, no, wait, I want to tell it," Pipit interrupts.

Sheik shakes his head, sighs, and murmurs, "Fine."

"So we were in the locker room—" He cuts himself off. "No, Sheik, you tell it. It's funnier if you tell it."

Sheik helplessly shakes his head once more. "…We were in the locker room, changing out of our P.E. uniforms, and I looked in my bag, and—"

"Somebody stole Sheik's pants!" Pipit exclaims, then breaks down into hysterics. He gasps for breath between fits of laughter, pounding his fist on the tabletop.

We all stare at Pipit blankly.

Mido asks Sheik, "They _stole_ your _pants_?"

"Who?" Fledge questions.

"Want me to rough 'em up for you?" offers Darmani.

Sheik groans. "No—I don't know who it was. I had to run to my dorm in my _boxers_ to get another pair."

Pipit laughs even more, wipes a tear away, and pulls a pair of jeans out of his backpack. "Oh, wait, were these yours?" he asks rhetorically.

Sheik's eyes widen. "_You son of_ _a_ _bitch_!" he bellows, lunging up to grab Pipit. Darmani holds him back before he can do any damage as Pipit sits across from him, chuckling.

Mikau squints dubiously at the brunette boy. "Why the hell would you do that, Pipit?"

"For a little thing called _revenge._"

"Revenge?" Sheik repeats through clenched teeth.

"_Revenge._" Pipit glares at the blonde. "Two words: _'hair pain'_."

"Hair p—" Sheik stops. "Oh, you've got to be SHITTING me!"

Pipit maintains his fierce gaze.

"I was helping you out, you dumbass! Karane would've found out that you liked her if I didn't come up with an excuse!"

Pipit snorts. "She would've found out that _you thought_ I liked her. I never said I liked her, Sheik."

"But you _do_!"

"No, I don't!" he shouts. "Look—I'm happy with my life the way it is. I don't need you guys to tell me how I should live it."

"You tell us how to live ours!" Sheik argues. "But that's beside the point—you forced me to streak across campus!"

Pipit bursts out laughing again.

* * *

After another uneventful day in my post-lunchtime classes, I pack up my things and meet up with Pipit at the entrance hall corner. "Mr. Minish is a dick," he mutters to me when I get there.

"That's been established," I say. "But you know who else is a dick?"

"Who?"

"You."

Squinting, Pipit asks, "What?"

I blink. "Today at lunch?"

He grins. "Oh, yeah."

"Anyway, I think I'm gonna head home."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I sigh, "it's been a long day."

Shrugging, Pipit says, "Aight. That's cool. I'll see you around."

We part ways. I exit the academy, inhaling the fresh air as I enjoy the scenery. Walking briskly toward the boys dorm, I mentally recite the night's homework. I'm about three days behind on the notes from the novel we're reading in HLA, so I'll have to do that. Hopefully I'll be able to use a pencil today. Rauru, Nabooru, Rupin and Ezlo didn't assign anything for homework tonight, so I guess I'll have a relatively easy night.

My phone rings. "Hello?" I greet.

"Link. It's Shad."

Ugh. I guess my night won't be that easy.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"You know those two goons you busted up? Vaati Anemoi and Ghirahim Daemon?"

"…I don't like where this is going."

"No, no, it's good news. I'll explain more later; I'm coming to pick you up."

"Shad—"

He hangs up.

I sigh, hanging my head pathetically. Shad's police car rolls up onto campus, and he honks the horn once to get my attention. Begrudgingly, I trek down the paved path to the lot.

* * *

In Shad's office, I sit at the desk while he rummages through a file cabinet."Okay, what's going on?" I ask.

Shad says over his shoulder, "Anemoi and Daemon are answering all our questions."

"Are you forcing them to?"

"No, I made sure to recite the Miranda warning. I'm actually quite surprised that they're not being silent."

"Are they being held here?"

"Yes, but just for questioning," the detective answers. "If they're found guilty—which I'm sure they will be—they'll be sent to juvie relatively soon." He finally pulls away from the cabinet, holding a file. "Aha. Found it."

He sits across from me, laying the file down on the table. "What's in it?"

"The questions we asked; the answers they gave." He opens the file. "We've concluded that Vaati and Ghirahim are each in a different gang."

"I thought so," I murmur.

"You did?"

"Yeah. I saw Vaati in an alley; he covered the M.O.D. logo with… I think it was an upside-down triangle. And next to it he put four letters, but I forgot what they were."

"Y.U.G.A.?"

"…Yes," I say slowly. "He told you the name of his gang?"

"Not the name, but we saw the graffiti in the alley. He refuses to tell us the meaning of the acronym."

I shrug. "I'm sure that doesn't matter too much. But what did Vaati tell you about his gang?"

"Not much," the detective sighs. "He informed me that they were the rival of the Men of Demise and were looking to kill Dragmire."

"Something we have in common."

"Don't go joining any gangs, now, Link."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't want to get a tattoo of their symbol. Needles scare me."

"That's your reasoning?"

"Yes sir."

Shad rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'd like you to look at this." He slides the file to me, pointing to a line of text highlighted in yellow.

I read aloud, "'He has found the ultimate power.' Which of them said that?"

"Ghirahim—referring to Ganondorf Dragmire. I haven't any idea what the 'ultimate power' is, but it doesn't sound good. And if what he said was true, the Y.U.G.A. is gonna have some difficulty killing him."

"And so am I."

There comes a knock at the door. "Come in," Shad calls.

The door opens, and a decently-aged man sticks his head inside. He looks to be in his late fifties, with graying hair hiding beneath his chief hat, and a neatly trimmed beard.

"Chief Auru," Shad says. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to speak with you." He eyes me. "In private."

"Yes, sir."

Chief Auru ducks back out of the office.

"I'm gonna leave you here, Link," he says. "And aside from that file, don't think about touching anything. There's surveillance cameras in here."

I nod. He turns to leave, but I stop him. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

"Do the cameras record sound?" I ask. If so, then my cover would be blown. The police would know that I am the guy who's now wanted.

"No. Your secret is safe with me."

With that, Shad leaves me in his office.

I heave a sigh, looking around the office. Bored, I tap my fingernails on the glass coating of the desk—until I hear a faint shattering sound. I look down at the desk, squinting to see a small crack in the glass.

Fingernail strength. Wow.

I roll my eyes and groan, sagging back in my chair. Closing my eyes, I attempt to get a little rest.

My FiPhone buzzes against my leg. I hesitantly take it out and read the message.

_"Hey, we're at the lounge. Where are you?"_ It was from Zelda.

_"My dorm,"_ I reply, then wait.

A minute passes, and my phone buzzes once more. _"Nice try. Sheik's there right now doing homework. Just tell me the truth, Link."_

…Should I? I think about it for awhile, then make up my mind. _"Okay._ _I'm at_ _CTPD station."_

_"Uh… why?"_

_"Investigating the crime."_

_"Oh… Sorry for bothering you."_

_"No, don't be,"_ I text back. _"I've got time. The detective_ _I'm_ _working with is gone right now."_

_"Is that why you left school the other day with_ _a cop? You were working to solve the crime?"_

_"Yeah."_

_ "So how's it going?"_

_"Alright I guess. You know how Ghirahim and Vaati are in a gang?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Ghirahim is in my uncle's killer's gang,"_ I write, fighting the tears that blur my vision, _"and Vaati is in that gang's rival gang."_

_"Are you serious?"_

_"Completely. But hey, make sure you delete that message. I don't want anyone to see it."_

_"Okay. Deleted it."_

_"Thanks."_

_"So do you think you'll catch the guy?"_

I bite my lip, pondering her question. _"I_ _don't know."_

_"Well I really hope you do. Good luck and be careful. You're working against powerful people."_

_"Thanks, and I know."_

_"Well I've gotta go now. See you soon."_

_"Okay, bye."_

I put my phone away, sighing again. I don't know if telling Zelda was the right thing to do. I mean, she's probably trustworthy, but I've known her for less than a week. Hopefully she will keep quiet about my whereabouts.

The office door opens again, and in strides Shad, looking glum.

"You okay?" I inquire.

Shad sighs. "I think you should leave."

"…Why?"

"The chief just told me that Daemon's lawyer just showed up, and she's… suspicious."

"Suspicious?"

He nods. "She is oddly acquainted with Daemon, and she seemed to show contempt for Anemoi."

"What's your point?"

"…I believe that she's in the M.O.D."

Shit.

"In fact," Shad says, "she is revered as one of the most talented lawyers in the city. I fear that her skill in law will keep Daemon out of juvie—but she probably won't defend Anemoi."

"What's her name?"

"What did Chief Auru say…?" he thinks out loud, tapping a finger on his chin. "Oh, right. Her name is Veran Black."

* * *

**Well, this took awhile to write, even though it was like 99 percent dialogue.**

**I had a reviewer comment about the diversity of my chapters. I don't stick to a format, nor do I continue with the same mood/style as the previous chapters (usually). You'll notice how light this chapter is compared to the others. That will reoccur, but maybe not for awhile… Or maybe soon… Hehe.**

**If you haven't noticed it already, Castle Town is based on New York City. For example, Castle Park (the "lung of the city") is based on Central Park, both of the cities are built like a grid, and Westcastle (derived from Westchester) is the name of the neighborhood in the western, suburban area of the city. There are several NYC elements that Castle Town lacks, though, such as the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building.**

**Also: YES. I added Ralph. Ralph is awesome. My favorite character from the Oracle games by far. He will be a reoccurring character, so I hope you enjoy his jackassery.**

**That's about it for now. To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	6. Baller

**Chapter six, boi.**

**Enjoy.**

**(I can rhyme all the time.)**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter** **6: ****Baller**

* * *

Wednesday, October 11

"Where are you?" asks the voice from my cell phone.

"Home."

"Stop lying to me."

"In a junkyard."

There's a lengthy pause. "…Why?"

"For reasons I'm not willing to discuss."

"Link," Zelda whines. "It's nine-thirty. Shouldn't you be coming back?"

"In a bit."

"A _bit_? Do you know what can happen to you in _'a __bit'_? It's nine-thirty and you're in a freaking _junkyard_."

She's worried about me. That's actually really sweet. "I'll be fine, Zelda," I say wholeheartedly. "Thank you, though."

I hear Zelda sigh. "Alright. Just… be careful."

"I will," I say.

And for once, I actually mean it. Well, sort of. Tonight, I'm pushing my abilities to their limits. I'm going to see what all I'm capable of.

As soon as Zelda hangs up with a reluctant farewell, I pocket my cell phone and hurtle over an overturned Subaru. I clear it with ease, a good foot or so distanced between my foot and the car. Once I land, I will my legs forward down a straight path in the yard, pumping my limbs until they go numb and it feels like I'm simply flying.

Dragging the fingertips of my right hand on the dirt, I bank right, then sprint off toward another array of smashed cars. Once I near a banged-up Ford truck, I stretch out my arms and vault over it, bringing my legs up over my head in a backflip. I stick the landing, smirking to myself.

Before I can continue, a voice interrupts me. "I give it an eight out of ten. You were a bit shaky on your landing."

I whip my head toward the source of the voice, outstretching my glowing right hand in warning, the bolt of energy eager to escape my fingers.

"Stand down, soldier," it says. "I'm no threat. Well, I'm actually not sure about that."

I begin to panic. I'm pointing my light-blazing hand directly at the source of the voice, but I can't see a thing. It's all dark, shrouded in shadow under the cover of a faded blue tarp. Where is the voice coming from? Or what?

I'm met with a sudden rush of icy air, making my skin crawl. _Danger._ That's all my brain can think right now.

"Dude. Right here."

I whirl around, giving myself whiplash, and focus on the figure standing before me. My eyes widen. "…Sweet Din."

The figure grins, revealing sharp, pearl-white teeth. "I'm not a goddess, no. But I _do_ appreciate the compliment."

He has familiar, wild and tousled jet-black hair, fierce red eyes, and an amused smirk set on his face. He wears a simple black tee, gray cargo pants, and dark Vans. Just like my outfit, but much darker, all in shades of black. And yes, he even has the same hat that I do. But what really sets off my instinctive run-away-right-now-and-don't-look-back senses is the fact that his body structure, expressions, and facial features completely mirror mine.

The figure laughs, using my voice as well. "Sorry, I know you're freaking out right now, but your expression is priceless."

Mouth agape, eyes wide, I simply stare at him.

"I guess I have some explaining to do, huh?" he asks.

I blink several times, trying to regain my composure. "For starters."

His red eyes drop to my right hand. "Care to show me that?"

I shake my head, jamming my hand into my pocket. "No."

"Well." My doppelganger narrows his eyes stubbornly. "From what I've seen of it, you're underdeveloped."

I blink. "…Underdeveloped?"

He nods. "Yep. I'll see you later, then."

"No—Wait!" I plead, but he's already leaving, disappearing in the shadow of a smashed vehicle.

Things just got a lot weirder in this city.

I stand there for a good five minutes, completely and utterly shocked, unsuccessfully trying to figure out just what the hell is going on.

* * *

At eleven-twenty, I arrive outside my dorm. I fumble around in my pocket for my key, then curse to myself as I come up short. I must've left it inside. So I knock on the door, expecting the worst from Sheik for waking him up this late.

Instead, to my clear surprise, Zelda answers the door.

I open my mouth to greet, "H—"

She slaps me across the face.

I dart my eyes back to her. "What the hell?"

Surprising me yet again, she just smiles warmly. "Sorry. Malon and I were watching some corny soap operas and it looked fun."

So that's what she's doing in my dorm. Visiting Malon, who's visiting Sheik. "So you're not mad about me lying to you and staying out in the city this late?"

She drops her eyes, squints, and ponders that for a moment. Then she reaches up and slaps me again.

"Ow!"

"Yeah, I guess I _am_ pretty mad at you for that," she says, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't do that again."

"'Kay, Mom."

"Don't call me Mom either."

"Or you'll slap me again?"

"Damn straight."

I laugh. "So, boss, may I come in? …To my own dorm?"

"_Boss…_ I like the way that sounds." Zelda smiles. "Yeah, come in. Sheik's crashed on the couch and so is Malon." She walks back in, with me following her, and motions toward the couch where the couple is lying fast asleep.

I squint. "Shouldn't Malon be getting back to her own dorm? I mean, aren't there rules against this?"

Zelda shrugs. "Nah, no one monitors that kinda stuff. As long as you show up to class, no one cares where you sleep." Her eyes widen when she realizes just how suggestive that sounded. A faint blush creeps up to her cheeks as she fumbles for words. "A-anyway… I-I should probably… go."

Unable to form my own words, I simply nod as she awkwardly moves past me. Before I know what I'm doing I am softly shutting the door. I then smirk to myself, finding humor in that situation. The way Zelda was flustered and blushing was actually pretty cute.

I sigh to myself, still smiling, and look at Malon and Sheik. So peaceful, so effortlessly perfect for one another. Granted, I don't know them very well, but from what I know of Sheik, he's head-over-heels in love with her.

It's nice, really.

It almost makes me want it. But not quite enough. For now, I'll do my best not to get too attached to anyone. For now… I'm more concerned about figuring out how to avenge my uncle's death. And I'm not sure if my new power will help me or hinder me from achieving that goal.

And the same goes for my new friends.

…Or my mysterious doppelganger.

With a heavy sigh, I collapse onto my bed, allowing the waves of exhaustion to will me to sleep.

* * *

Thursday, October 12

_"Hey, meet me in the gym,"_ Sheik's text message reads reads on my phone screen.

I roll my eyes, sighing, and sling my backpack over my shoulder, heading out of Mr. Minish's room.

"What's got ya down, kid?" asks Midna, catching up to me outside the classroom.

I shrug. "Not much. Just being bugged by my friends."

Midna grins. "They tend to do that."

I nod, continuing to walk at a slow pace toward the gym. Oddly, Midna comes with me, her eyes lingering on me for some time. I finally turn to look at her. "What?"

She's smirking—the smirk that makes me feel a little insecure, the smirk that makes me think she knows something that I don't. "Why'd you just straight-up leave?"

"Huh?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "Don't tell me you're trying Pipit's _'playing hard to get'_ tactic on Zelda."

"What—No," I say. "Are you saying you wanted me to meet up with Zelda?"

"Well, yeah," she says, blowing a bubble out of her strawberry gum. "Listen, kid. You've got a real shot."

My eyebrows raise.

Grinning, Midna continues: "I knew you were interested. I'm not promising that Zelda is, too, 'cause she never tells us about her romantic interests, but I have suspicions."

I squint. "Like what?"

Midna wags her finger at me, still smirking. "Figure it out yourself. Ask her to hang out sometime, will ya?" Without waiting for an answer, Midna turns and leaves.

I stand there, perplexed, until I get another text from Sheik. _"Okay?"_ it reads.

_"Fine,"_ I reply hastily.

Pocketing my cell, I briskly stride toward the gym, wondering why Sheik wants me to meet him there. When I arrive at the double doors, I push my way through.

I scan the large room. At the center hoop, closest to the doors, the basketball team is practicing. I pick out the people I recognize: Groose, Drake, and Dirk. Three of the remaining six are the bunch of jerks who were hitting on Zelda before. But the other three, I don't know.

The volleyball team isn't here today; maybe practice was canceled or something. Other students with nowhere else to be are sitting up in the bleachers, doing homework or working on projects. At the base of the bleachers, a petite girl—I think she's Agitha—is painting on one of her own projects.

I spot Sheik, who waves to get my attention, sitting at the top of the bleachers to my right. I begrudgingly make my way over there, climbing the fifteen or so steps to the top. "Why am I meeting you here?" I ask, plopping down dramatically next to him.

"Your friend Talo called this morning while you were still asleep, so I answered it. He told me you said that you weren't gonna join the basketball team."

"…Where are you going with this?"

"I want you to see how awful these excuses for athletes are. Then maybe you'll agree to join the team."

"I'm not gonna be on the same team as these idiots."

"You'll be the star! You'll get scholarships!"

I squint. "How good do you think I am?"

Sheik shrugs. "I don't know. Never seen you play. But Talo compared you to LeBron James, so I figured you had to be pretty good. Either that or you flop a lot."

I smirk.

"But seriously!" Sheik exclaims. "Just look at 'em!" He points to someone, Groose, who chucks the ball off of the backboard, not even close to the rim. "They're an embarrassment to this school."

"I can see that."

"So…?"

"Still no."

"Dammit. Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Nuh-uh."

"I'll be your best friend."

"Nah, I'll take Pipit instead."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Right. But still no."

Sheik sags against the back wall, heaving a sigh. "I guess it's another zero-win season, then. Hey, why haven't we ever played against Ordonia?"

"'Cause it didn't have a high school," I reply with a shrug, "and still doesn't."

"Oh," Sheik replies solemnly, nodding.

The doors open again, and in comes Ruto—or is it Lulu?—dragging a reluctant Zelda into the gym. "Come on!" I hear the twin, whoever it is, say to Zelda.

"Why do we have to do homework in here?" she asks.

"'Cause I've got nowhere else to go. Plus, these guys are _hot._" It must be Ruto, I mentally note.

Zelda scoffs. "They are not."

They make their way over to the far end of the same set of bleachers, without noticing me or Sheik.

"Well, _I_ think they are," Ruto says.

"You think _everyone's_ hot, Ruto," Zelda replies.

"Not everyone. _Groose_ isn't."

Zelda giggles. "Tell that to _him._"

"I gladly will." Ruto sits down on the bottom step, patting the seat next to her. "But you know who _is_ hot?"

Zelda rolls her eyes. "Who is it this time?"

Ruto smiles. "That Link Gaiden boy. Hot."

Sheik nudges me. "You hear that? You've got an admirer already!"

I shake my head. "No thanks."

Grinning, Sheik nods. "Oh, right. My bad. I forgot she wasn't Zelda."

I elbow him in the ribs.

"Seriously," Ruto says with growing excitement, "I'm thinking about going after him. He looks like a keeper, huh?"

I mutter to myself, "Oh, please don't go after me…"

Sheik squints. "What's your deal with her? Don't like her?"

I shrug. "Pipit told me he dated her in eighth grade. Clingiest girl ever. And whiney, too."

"Not your type, I'm assuming," Sheik chuckles.

The two girls quiet down their conversation, so I can no longer eavesdrop.

I watch as Groose misses another three-point shot, and the ball smacks off the rim toward the bleachers. It bounces straight into Agitha's bottle of paint, knocking it over and spilling black paint all over her project. Agitha shouts, "Hey!"

Groose just snickers. "Whoops."

I sigh heavily and grunt, "Dammit." Dropping my backpack next to Sheik, I descend the bleachers and walk over to Agitha's ruined project. She'd painted a butterfly, and it was actually quite good, but black paint has stained the entire left portion of it. I shake my head, reaching down to pick up the ball that had gone astray.

Dirk pointed at me from the baseline, prompting Groose to turn and see. He sneers at me. "You gonna give me my ball?"

I shrug, walking out to the three point line. "You know, why don't you just _take_ it from me?"

Groose snorts, remaining at the free throw.

"Go on, Groose," Drake urges, "just take it from him."

"Yeah, take it, Groose," the other players join in.

Groose grumbles, begrudgingly succumbing to the pressure of his teammates, and reaches out for the basketball. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I effortlessly toss the ball into the air, sending it soaring upward and bouncing off the ceiling before it returns to my grasp. Groose stands there, confused, as if he were assigned a third grade math problem.

"What's wrong, Groose?" I bait. "Can't take it from me?"

Groose snarls, fury blazing in his golden eyes, and lunges at me. I grip the basketball in both hands and leap upward, hurtling over Groose in a frontflip. As he whirls around, a vein bulging out of his meaty forehead, I can't hold back my laughter.

"You little twerp!" he bellows, bounding forward in attempts to tackle me.

I roll my eyes and spin the ball on my finger, waiting for the perfect moment. As he draws nearer, I bounce the ball between his legs—a little trick Talo taught me—and vault off of Groose's shoulders with my palms, flipping forward and sticking the landing. I recover the ball, spinning it on my finger once more. "What?" I ask. "Can't catch me?"

He shakes his head contemptuously. "You've got nothin'."

"Nothing?" I repeat with an incredulous grin. "You've got a lot to learn."

With that, I dribble around him, then leap upward in the air, soaring higher than Jordan ever did. I flip forward in the air, gripping the ball tightly, and two-hand slam it into the basket.

The rim groans in protest as I grip it, and the entire backboard bends with my weight, shattering the glass into thousands of pieces and raining down on me. I fall as the rim breaks off it hinges; when I land, rim still in my grip, I look around with trepidation. One thought comes to mind.

Oh, shit.

* * *

"Disrespecting teachers, skipping detention, and now destroying academy property?!" Headmaster Gaepora exclaims. "Link, I'm beginning to regret inviting you here."

"That's funny," I mutter, "because I'm regretting coming here."

He squints. "Why's that?"

Sighing, I hang my head. "I don't belong here. The teachers made that clear. People like Groose made that clear."

Mr. Harkinian cocks his head. "And you let that bother you?"

I shrug. "I know I shouldn't, sir, but _come on_! My _uncle_ died! And these rich people have no boundaries. They don't care about me; they care about _themselves_ and how my inclusion in this school hurts their image." I wave my hand outward pathetically, fighting the tears that blur my vision. "This just… sucks."

"Is that why you are treating the teachers the way you are? Because you associate them with the rich-person stereotype?"

I ponder that for a bit. "…No. I treat them the way they treat me. Like I'm not worthy of their attention."

"But why?"

"For one thing, those two jerks deserve it, and for another, I have trouble trusting adults. I always have, since I grew up in a town where the adults worked all the time and the children were left to mingle amongst themselves, and I _still_ do—maybe more than ever. You know, 'cause of the… the murder," I explain, choking out the last word.

"Ah." The headmaster nods. "I see."

"Look," I sigh, "I'm sorry for causing a ruckus in your perfect little academy. I'll pay to replace the hoop, and if you really want me to leave, I will."

"You're not leaving my school, Link," Gaepora assures me. "Well, that would be your choice, but I am not expelling you. You think breaking a seven-year-old basketball hoop is crossing the line?"

"…Yes?"

"Well, it isn't," he responds with a light chuckle. "I have heard about certain people participating in gangs. I never kicked them out."

"Because they find a way to pay for tuition," I say.

"Well, that too. But I don't expel them because I believe everyone has character flaws, but they do not necessarily affect overall character. You, from what I've noticed, need to learn how to interact with adults…. And how to dunk softer."

I grin. "Yeah, clearly. Send me the bill for the hoop."

He hesitates, but nods nonetheless. "Okay, Link. You are dismissed."

I leave the headmaster in his office, gingerly stepping out into the hall. I feel a few pairs of eyes on me, so, humiliated, I shoulder my backpack and head off toward the exit.

"What did he say?"

I halt, turning on my heel to see Zelda standing a few feet away. "Well," I begin, shrugging, "I covered the cost of the replacement."

Her expression saddens. "Oh…" Likely, she feels bad that I have to pay for something that's moderately expensive, considering my state of poverty.

Unable to find words, I just lower my eyes and offer a small nod. We stand there, awkwardly, shyly, neither of us meeting the other's eyes. Rubbing the back of my neck, I remember what Midna had said to me.

_"Ask her to hang out sometime, will ya?"_

That's it. I'm gonna do it.

After an unbearable silence, Zelda slowly turns to leave. "Hey," I say, halting her.

She turns back around, her dazzling, bright blue eyes meeting mine. "Yes?"

Now's your chance, Link. Open your mouth, and speak words. Do it. Now. "Maybe we could…" I start to say, fumbling for words. "I don't know… um…"

Oh no. Don't choke, Link. Just _speak,_ dammit!

I meekly rub the back of my neck as Zelda raises her eyebrows. "Uh… maybe… we could… um…" I hesitantly meet her eyes. "Or we could… um…"

Her lips slowly form into a smile. "Yeah," she says excitedly. "Yeah, either one."

I grin, laughing a bit at my earlier cowardice. "Alright, cool. Great. So…?"

Her smile widens. "Come on. I have a place in mind that you'll want to see." Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out of the school.

* * *

"Castle Park," Zelda exhales, a wide smile painted on her features as we step onto the green grass. "My favorite place in the city."

Birds chirp from bright October trees, singing various tunes, but still in perfect harmony. The brisk breeze gives me a bit of a chill, so I rub my arms to keep warm. "Never been here," I say, observing the picturesque scenery, "but I already like it."

Zelda turns around and smiles at me, motioning to a park bench set just off the winding, paved trail that leads through the park. "Wanna sit?" she asks.

I nod, joining her on the bench. "Your favorite part of the city?" I ask her; she nods. "How come?"

Zelda intakes a breath of the crisp autumn air. "My mother used to take me here when I was little. She, um… passed away when I was six."

"Oh," I say solemnly, "I'm sorry."

She gives me a half smile. "Thanks. I'm pretty much over it—I mean, I _miss_ her of course, but I don't really… _cry_ about her that much anymore."

I nod slowly, thinking. Zelda went through exactly what I'm going through right now, except she was just a kid. She was six years old, yet so strong. She transcended her mourning.

When I, deep in thought, don't say anything, Zelda taps me on the shoulder and points outward. "Look up there."

I look in the direction she points, seeing a cluster of towering trees in the center of the massive park. "The trees?"

"Yeah. Hold on a sec," she says, reaching into her backpack. She takes out a pair of binoculars and hands them to me. "Look at the tallest tree."

I peer into the lenses, moving them so I find the tree that juts out into the sky the most. I squint, focusing in on what I can see. There, caught in the uppermost branch, is a magnificent golden harp.

"It's been up there since I can remember," Zelda tells me. "Many believe the goddesses themselves dropped it on that tree for someone special to retrieve it, but no one has. In fact I'm surprised the fire department hasn't come to get it down… I've never told anyone this, but I've always secretly wanted to have that harp. It's beautiful, you know?"

Lowering the binoculars, I smile, then turn to look directly at Zelda while saying, "Yeah, it really is."

"Someday… it will come down. And I'll be jealous of whoever gets it."

My smile widens. _Well, Zelda,_ I think to myself, _then it's my goal to someday get that harp down for you._

* * *

Friday, October 13

Well, it's Friday the thirteenth. And you know what that means. Trouble.

"You fucking prick!" Groose roars, winding up his arm.

Before I can react, the brute's meaty fist connects with my nose, shattering the bridge of it. I involuntarily take the hit, close my eyes, and breathe in deeply. When I reopen them, I'm punched again, this time in the jaw. I recoil slightly, take another calming breath, then fix my eyes on him sternly.

"No one makes me look like a wimp!" he bellows, golden eyes blazing with fury.

I snort. "Except for yourself."

Groose roars again, throwing his fist straight at my face for the third time.

Keep cool.

Take the hit.

Don't abuse your power.

Blood pours out of my nose as I take two steps back, blinking to clear my blurring vision. I wipe it away with the back of my hand, maintaining my intense glare.

"HEY!" hollers a familiar voice. We both turn to see Pipit dashing towards us, a furious scowl set firmly on his features, and carrying of all things a watermelon in the crook of his arm. "Beat up on my friend, and you get melon'd!" He hucks the heavy fruit at Groose's head, and it splits open at contact with his pudgy face before falling on the pavement.

Groose grimaces and stomps on the pieces of melon before glaring furiously at Pipit, whose eyes gradually widened. The brute throws another punch, his fist colliding with Pipit's temple. The boy's eyes roll back, and he cripples to the ground. Knocked out.

That does it.

I wind up my arm, summoning a marginal amount of force, just enough to teach him a lesson, and throw a punch. My fist connects with his meaty upper body, and he just freakin' _soars_ backward. Knocking into a garbage can, Groose flips over, landing face-down on the sidewalk. He lies there, mortified, eyes locked with mine.

I kneel down next to the unconscious Pipit. People gather nearby, chatting amongst themselves, but I notice no familiar faces. Soon, though, Mikau and Darmani rush over to my side, helping me gingerly lift Pipit to his feet, and Darmani ends up carrying him entirely by himself.

Groose struggles to rise to his feet by himself. I storm over to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt and putting on the most furious face I can muster up at the moment. "You damn K.O.'d my friend!"

Groose grasps my wrist, trying to pry my iron grip off his chest, but I hold it steadfast.

"You hang out with a gang, you never give Zelda any space, and you beat up on my friends!" I shout, knuckles turning white. "You know what, pompadour? I've been training to avenge my uncle. Fuck off, or you'll keep being my practice dummy."

He blinks several times, fixing me with an expression of the utmost confusion. All he can muster up is to wheeze, "How…?"

I leave him there, feeling dozens of pairs of eyelids on my back as I go over to my trio of friends.

"He got hit pretty good," Mikau comments, pointing to his bruised temple.

"I'ma beat the gods-damned life outta that oaf," Darmani grunts through gritted teeth.

"Don't," I warn, stealing a glance behind me. Groose has fallen to his knees, unfocused eyes wide and unblinking, looking at nothing in particular. "He's gonna get his act together soon. Just look at him. He's confused as hell."

"He'd better get his damn act together," Darmani mutters. "Ain't no one gonna beat up on my bros."

"We should get Pipit back to his dorm," Mikau suggests.

I shrug, jeering, "I feel like if we just leave him here he'll sleepwalk into some random girl's bed."

Darmani and Mikau glare at me.

"What, just 'cause Pip's knocked out I can't make a joke?"

"Whatever, man," Darmani grunts. "I'm gonna go take him up there now."

"I'll come with," Mikau announces.

"You guys go on ahead," I say, waving them off. "Sorry, but I've got… something."

When they leave, I break off into a light jog toward the edge of campus, eluding the scrutiny of shocked peers.

I've got some crap to figure out.

* * *

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in a pinkish hue. I spend no time admiring the scenery, instead tightening my grip on my backpack straps and trudging down the sidewalk toward the abandoned junkyard I was at two days ago.

The streets seem oddly desolate; it forces a chill to run down my spine. Every now and then I'll see a pedestrian, but every time they are walking swiftly and hastily away from where I'm heading. I pick up my pace, determined to get to the bottom of this.

As I progress, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my golden hand starts to tingle, and a bead of sweat trickles down my forehead. The sun is now completely set.

A streetlight flickers ominously overhead, sporadically throwing white light on the blacktop ground. It's eerily quiet as I enter the junkyard, stopping at the entrance and scanning the area for my person of interest. Or—more accurately—_thing_ of interest.

"You know," cooes a voice behind me, "modern culture warns you of being out at night on this particular date."

I whirl around, coming face-to-face with none other than my doppelganger. An unattractive scowl set on my features, I growl, "You."

"Me," he agrees with a sly nod.

Silence.

I maintain my fierce glare, clenching my fists, but say nothing as I wait for him to explain.

"Look," he says, "I'll make you a deal."

"No thanks," I grunt, raising my glowing hand in threat. "You'll tell me what I need to know."

He cringes at the light, squinting and covering his eyes with a hand to protect his eyesight. "…Don't think so," he spits out stubbornly.

Frustrated, I snarl, thrusting my arm forward and releasing the energy from my fingertips, sending a bolt straight at him. In a flash, he loses all form and sinks into a black puddle on the ground, the bolt passing harmlessly overhead. Then he rises up from the puddle, back to his original state. I stare at him with disbelief and indignation, sputtering out, "W-what?!"

My shadow simply smirks. "Like I said—let me make you a deal. You get out of here before you're killed, and I will explain things to you eventually."

"Why would you care if I'm killed?"

"Link," he says.

_...I never told him my name._

Recognizing my confusion, the shadow smirks again. "They might not know it yet, but everyone would care if you were killed."

I thrust my arms out pathetically. "Stop speaking in gods-damned riddles!"

He rolls his eyes. "Fine. You are important to this world. Happy?"

"No!"

"Well suck it up."

I blink.

"You certainly are courageous," the shadow comments. "I'm impressed. 'Kay. You want answers? Follow me." He starts off toward the junkyard's exit, pauses, and turns back to me. "And don't die."

"I'll try," I murmur, following my doppelganger out of the junkyard.

At the barbed-wire fence, he raises a hand in warning, halting our progress. Poking his head around and surveying the area, he picks something up from a pile of scraps.

"What the heck is that?"

"It's my own personal invention," he says with a devilish grin, showing me his weapon. It looks to be a lead pipe with a sharp metal scrap sticking out of one end.

"It's a ghetto axe," I idly comment.

"More like a halberd," he corrects. "Trust me; it works."

"What do you use it against?"

He bites his lip. "…Things."

"I swear, if you're some kind of murderer, I will murder you."

"No!" he refutes. "I would never use it against a human."

He used the word _"human."_

…That means he is inhuman.

_What the hell._

"Keep up," he instructs. "You'll see what I use it against soon."

I groan, rolling my eyes in meager protest, but reluctantly follow him, making sure to pick up a discarded shovel, just in case. "Who are you?"

"I'm me."

"'Me'? So I'm gonna call you _'Me'_ from now on?"

"Oh, right. I forgot that you humans label each other with proper nouns."

I blink in surprise.

He shrugs, tapping his foot a few times in thought. "Just… call me… Dark."

"Dark _what_?"

He blinks at me.

"Last name? You know, like Link _Gaiden_?"

"Can I take yours?"

"No."

"What about Souls?"

"Dark Souls? No way."

He groans. "Kidd?"

"That'll sound racist."

"Ness?"

"I'm pretty sure there are some copyright issues there," I say with a shrug. "Dark Ness, though? Clever."

"So can I…?"

"No."

"Dang it," he mutters. "What about… Night?"

I shake my head. "Dark Night sounds cliché. It's kind of cool, though."

He nods. "Then how about Nyton? And I can spell it cool—N-Y-T-O-N. Doesn't that sound sexy?"

"If it did, I'd be concerned," I murmur. "Dark Nyton sounds good though."

"Yes!" he exclaims, pumping a fist in the air. Then he turns to grin at me. "See, we're already bonding."

I roll my eyes, sighing. "Can we just get to the point where—"

Dark's eyes widen suddenly. "Shhh!" he whispers forcefully, grabbing my arm and yanking me into an alley.

"What?!" I grunt, gripping the shovel in my right hand tightly.

"Quiet," he whispers in response, peeking out into the streets. When Dark returns, he looks even more concerned than before. "I'm being hunted."

"Hunted?"

"Yes," Dark spits out with haste.

"I guess you'll _'explain later',_ huh?" I ask in a dull tone.

He nods.

I roll my eyes, whispering, "Fine. Let me see." I shove past Dark, who grips his ghetto halberd fearfully, and I peek around the corner into the street.

In the middle of the deserted road stands an enormous man, with dark, milky-brown skin covered mostly by his black leather outfit. His unzipped jacket reveals a gray tank with a black crescent moon pattern. A black beanie rests on the man's thick head, and he swivels his head left and right. His authoritative, thunderous voice calls out into the night: "I know you're here, shadow boy!"

Dark presses his back against the wall, saying, "I'm still not too familiar with this era's lingo—what's the phrase I would use in this situation?"

"Oh, shit."

"Yes, thank you. Oh, shit." He pauses. "Yeah, that works."

"Who is that guy?"

"His name is Onox," Dark replies meekly.

I then remember the symbol on the man's gray shirt. The crescent moon. "…He's in the M.O.D., isn't he?"

Dark fixes me with a puzzled look. "You've already encountered them?"

"Yeah," I reply with visible confusion. "Ganondorf killed my uncle. Wait... What do you mean, _'already'_?"

"…Nothing. Okay. Link. I need a really big favor from you. Will you do it for me?"

I squint. "Depends on the favor."

"I need you to go out there and kill that guy."

"Um, no."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I have morals."

"What do your _teeth_ have to do with anything?"

"Not _molars,_ you idiot. Morals."

Dark waves his arm outward pathetically. "Please, Link! He's going to bring me back to Gan—" Dark freezes.

I blink at him. "He's going to bring you… _'back'_ to Ganondorf?!"

Dark cringes. "…Oh, shit?"

I shake my head dubiously. "You've met with him?!"

"UGH!" he shouts out in frustration. "Fine! You want me to explain? I'll explain, dammit! Look—"

"Dark—"

"—Ganondorf Dragmire possesses some kind of ultimate power but I'm not entirely sure what it is so I'm not gonna tell you about it—"

"_Dark_."

"—and he used that power to open up a portal and bring forth some servants from my world which, in fact, is called the dark world but it isn't really as evil as it sounds, except for the monsters—"

"Dark!"

"—And he only took a few creatures at first since he still hasn't learned to utilize the full potential of his power but soon enough he's going to bring a lot more monsters to this world and we need to stop him or he's going to take over Hyrule Castle and I'm pretty sure no one wants that to happen, but the point is, I'm a creature called a shadow from the dark world, and I snuck through the portal and escaped his lair to the junkyard where I saw you and noticed your potential and copied your physical form. While I'm in this form, Ganondorf can't control me with his power so that's why he's sent that huge guy to come after me and he's going to bring me back to Ganondorf!"

"DARK!" I yell, turning him around.

At the entrance to the alley, casting an ominous shadow onto the two of us, stands Onox, a victorious sneer on his face. "I've got you, shadow boy."

Dark gulps, quivering in fear as he clutches the lead pipe. I stand my ground, right hand blazing as I raise my shovel in warning.

Onox laughs heartily, reaching behind him to take out his own weapon from his belt—a chrome pistol.

"…Dark?"

"Yeah, Link?"

"Oh, shit."

* * *

**A few things: No, Link and Zelda aren't technically dating yet; their relationship still has MUCH to endure. Yes, Dark's explanation will be simplified sometime soon. Yes, LinkBron James is a baller. No, Groose isn't.**

**Who got the Dark Souls reference? And the Earthbound reference? Brownie points to those who did.**

**Well, that's about it for now. Stay thirsty, my friends.**

**TBC.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	7. Minor

**Everyone's favorite hero and his dumbass friends have returned for chapter seven! Hooray!**

**So I had a request for a summary of the last chapter at each new chapter's beginning. I happen to like that idea, so I'll do that from now on:**

**_Last time in Hyrule…_**

**Our hero spent his night testing out his abilities, and he ran into a mysterious boy who looked just like him. The next day, Link dunked on Groose's pouty face and ended up shattering the glass backboard, which sent him to the headmaster's office. Eventually Link ran into his doppelganger again, who goes by the name of Dark Nyton. But what is he, and who's the man named Onox who seems to be hunting him?**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter** **7: Minor**

* * *

Friday, October 13

"Hey."

"Mmnnh…"

"Link."

"…Mngh."

"Wake up."

"Five more… m-minutes…"

_Snap! Snap!_

I snap my eyes open, seeing much darkness and only a faint yellow light above, and I blink to clear my blurred vision. When I focus, I see someone's hand snapping numerous times in front of my face. "I'm up," I grumble, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Good. You remember what happened?"

Groggy, I sputter out without any help from my muddled thoughts, "I… punched Groose?"

"No, kid, you didn't punch any goose. But you _did_ beat the living hell out of Onox, that's for sure."

I propel myself up, finally regaining my composure, and realize that I'm sitting beside an old building next to Dark. "…What, now?"

"Your shovel," Dark says with a mischievous grin, gesturing to the gardening tool that lies next to me. "You smacked it on his head. K.O.'d instantly. Kudos to you, kid."

I squint incredulously at him. "Then… why did I lose consciousness?"

"Oh, right. 'Bout that." Dark's grin widens. "You hit him so hard that the shovel bounced off his head and smacked you. You knocked yourself out—literally."

"Go me."

"Yeah!" Dark exclaims, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Keep it up, Link, and we'll soon be the dynamic duo."

"For what?"

Dark rises to his feet, offering to help me up as well. I allow him to pull me up, wobbling slightly from my recent slumber. "Monster hunting," he answers with a wicked smile.

"Monster hunting," I repeat dubiously. "Like a pair of superheroes."

"Exactly! I'll be Dark Guy, and you can be Light Guy!"

"Those are probably some of the dumbest superhero names I've ever heard."

"Two words: _the Thing_." He narrows his eyes. "I beg to differ."

I roll my eyes impatiently, groaning, "But _monsters_? What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember _nothing_ from what I told you a few hours ago?"

"Not really, no."

Dark sighs heavily. "Ugh. Fine. I will re-explain." Clearing his throat, he begins: "First of all, I am not from your world."

"I got that, yeah."

He blinks. "You did?"

"Yes," I respond with a small nod. "Here's a tip: if you want to try and be a human being, don't call people _'humans'._ That's when they get a bit suspicious."

"Huh," Dark muses, shrugging. "Guess you learn somethin' new every day."

I stare at him expectantly.

He sits there, wiping a mark off of his ghetto halberd, admiring it.

"Dark."

"What?"

"The story."

He grins. "Oh. Right. So, I am a being from a place called the dark world—it isn't that bad of a place, so don't worry about me being a monster or somethin'."

"The dark world," I repeat. "…Is that what you call hell?"

"Hell… hmm. A portion of that world could be considered hellish—that's where the monsters are bred. But for the most part, no. Like the light world that we're in today, my world has different parts."

"Like what?"

"Well, you see, there's the monster place that I mentioned, and an area of complete and utter blackness—that's where I'm from. And there are probably a few other areas I've never heard of."

I squint. "Blackness? That's where you're from? Just a big heap of… nothing?"

Dark laughs heartily. "It isn't nothing, Link. It's something. Just… impossible to see, hear, smell, touch, or taste, 'cause we didn't have those abilities."

"'We'?"

"Yeah, there are more of me. Shadows, I mean. We communicated by openly expressing thoughts in our own language."

"…So you can hear thoughts."

He shakes his head. "Not in this body, no. Don't worry, your secrets are safe."

I nod meekly, dropping my eyes to the pavement.

Dark seems to notice. "Feeling overwhelmed?"

I snort. "A little. But a lot of crazy shit's been going on so I've decided to just go with it."

"Good, 'cause it's only gonna get more confusing."

"Thanks."

Dark nods. "So I bet you're wondering how I got here."

"A little."

"Well, let's back up a bit. You're familiar with Ganondorf, correct?"

I glare at him. "Yes."

"Well, you see, he's kind of… evil."

"You don't say."

"I _do_ say."

I cock my head. "Dark,it's an expression."

"What's an expression?"

"What I said."

"What did you say?"

"You don't say."

"Yes I do!"

"_Dark_!" I exclaim. "Never mind. Just keep going."

Dark whistles. "Anger issues." When I roll my eyes impatiently, he continues: "So. G-dorf is some evil dude who seeks power. And somehow, he _got_ power. I don't know what kind, but I know it can't be good."

I don't really like where this is going.

"Anyway, he used that power to open up a portal between dimensions—light and dark."

"Why?"

"Because—" He stops, looking over his shoulder. "Dammit. Stand up, and get your shovel ready."

Without a reason to protest, I obey, raising my shovel. Dark narrows his eyes at a garbage can across the street, holding his lead-pipe-halberd-thing at the ready. "What's going on?" I ask frantically.

"Just watch," he instructs.

I do. The garbage can rattles loudly, thrashing left and right until it topples over and spills out a blob of purple goo. I watch in fascination as a figure rises out of the substance and takes form. Its skin takes a burgundy hue, and its oversized head droops awkwardly over its bare chest. Gaunt arms wield the trash can lid as a makeshift shield as it hobbles toward the two of us.

"What the hell is that thing?!" I demand in a hushed voice.

He seems to relax. "Just a bokoblin," he replies with a shrug. "No biggie."

"_No biggie_?" I repeat incredulously.

Dark chuckles. "You humans are hilarious. Watch 'n learn, rookie."

Dark casually strides over to the creature, which grunts at him, and bludgeons it upside the head. The bokoblin whines, falling on its back, then disappears in a puff of purple smoke.

Dark whirls around, arms outstretched. "See? No big—"

_SCREECH!_

Dark turns around just in time to be snatched by a pair of talons.

"Shiiiiiit!"

I watch as the scaly creature swoops upward, hollering in victory as it looks down at its captured prize.

"Damn Aeralfos!" Dark yells.

Dark struggles in the monster's grip, eventuallybreaking an arm free and striking the Aeralfos in the head with the sharp end of his halberd. "Yes!" he exclaims as the monster dissipates. "Wait, no!" Dark plummets down through the sky toward the ground, yelping in fear.

I break off into a full sprint toward my falling double, leaping high into the air and catching him in my outstretched arms.

And then we hit the ground.

"Oof!" I grunt, feeling pain erupt in my ribcage, where Dark's figure had hit me the hardest. "How much… do you weigh?"

Dark coughs. "Same as you, idiot."

"I really… need to… work out more," I wheeze through my own spastic coughing.

"Nah, you're pretty strong already," Dark comments, sitting up on the sidewalk. "'S why I copied you, in fact."

"You… what?"

"Oh, right," Dark says, hitting his forehead with his palm. "Forgot to finish my story."

Eyes widening, I nod.

"Those monsters we saw? Yeah, they're Ganon's doing. He summoned them from the portal with his power. He's gonna use them to storm Hyrule Castle."

"How do you know that last part?"

"See, the portal was still open while he was telling this to his new fleet of monsters. Therefore, I could hear him; I knew I had to warn someone about this guy, so I snuck through the portal in attempts to do that."

"And then you found me."

"Right," he agrees with a nod. "I found you in that junkyard. Noticed your potential. Copied your entire physical form. Y'know. Normal stuff."

"My potential?" I repeat. "What d'you mean?"

Dark sighs. "Do you think that symbol on your hand is normal?"

I blink. "Do you think copying people's physical forms is normal?"

"For my people, yes. But for you?! That symbol is legendary, kid. Legendary."

"How so?"

Dark shrugs. "Don't know. I just know it's important."

"That explains a lot."

"It better," Dark mutters, looking outward. "Now you know that you're important. You won't go rushing in headfirst to stupid gang fights and risking death. Be cautious, kid. Promise me that. Okay?"

"Fine. Whatever."

Dark claps a hand on my shoulder. "Anyway. You don't have to worry about me turning on you; while I'm in this form, G-dorf can't control me. That's why he sent Onox. He wanted to rope me in and find a way to quash my free will."

"He can do that?"

Dark shrugs. "I'm sure he'll find a loophole eventually—if he catches me, that is. Which he won't."

"Not while I'm here, he won't," I reassure him with a grin.

"Right!" Dark matches my expression with one of his own, ruffling my hair excitedly with his fist. "Dark Guy and Light Guy, heroes of the streets!"

I chuckle a bit. "We've gotta come up with better nicknames."

"Well... I don't really need one, but you do. Word 'round the block says you're some kind of wanted vigilante. You're more famous than I am, so you'll need a better alias."

"Like what?"

Dark bites his lip, pondering. "I think _'Hero'_ sounds good. Simple and to the point."

"Hero," I repeat. "I like it."

* * *

Saturday, October 16

"You seriously need to stop disappearing."

"My bad."

"No shit, your bad. Quit givin' us freakin' heart attacks!"

"Quit worrying so much."

"That's what friends do, Link. They worry about each other."

"Maybe if you're a Smurf," I shoot back. "Look. Sheik. I appreciate you worrying about me. But you need to understand that I have more important stuff to handle outside of our little group of friends."

Sheik crosses his arms over his chest and squints at me. "More important stuff? Like what?"

I stare at him for a bit, waiting for the light bulb to go off, but notice no change in behavior. "My _uncle_?" I drawl.

Sheik sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Link, what's going on," he says in an accusative manner, putting no emphasis on the question.

With a nonchalant shrug, I lie, "Just going through some stuff with the authorities at the station."

"Link."

"Sheik."

Sheik sighs. "What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff about my uncle."

"Link!"

"Stuff I don't really want to _talk_ about, alright?!" I shout.

Our dorm grows quiet as Sheik furrows his eyebrows, turning his back to me. After a long while of uncomfortable silence, he slowly begins, "Look… we're only worried about you because we like you, okay? We're trying to be your friends and help you get through this tough time. But we can't do it if you keep avoiding us."

"No," I mutter, shaking my head.

He squints. "No, what?"

"There's only one thing that's gonna get me through this."

I stand up from my seat abruptly, walking out the door, leaving him guessing as to what that thing is.

_Revenge._

And maybe a Pop-Tart. I'm hungry.

* * *

"Hi," I murmur to the librarian at the front desk. "Where could a find a book on the Hylian legends?"

The lady smiles. "Doing a report?"

"Of sorts," I reply.

She points to the back right corner. "Over there. They're not grouped with fiction or non-fiction, because that would lead to religious controversy."

Unable to respond to that unnecessary information, all I can say is "Um, thanks." With that, I head over to the corner of the library, recounting what Dark had said.

He talked about Ganondorf having some ultimate, legendary power… And even Detective Shad said that Ghirahim had talked about that.

Unsure where to start, I reach out and pull out a random book. "_'__How to Defeat a Kangaroo in a Boxing Match'_," I read aloud quietly to myself. Shaking my head, I shove the book back in its place and grab another.

I scoff. "_'Y__our Talking Boat: How to Get it to Respect You'_—what the hell?"

Third time's the charm, I muse. "'_Tales of the Moaning Toilet'_—dammit, why is this in a library?"

With an exasperated groan, I switch the book out for a thicker, more worn book. I study the gold letters on the leather-bound cover that read, _'HYLIAN LEGENDS'._

"Finally," I groan, sitting down at a nearby table and flipping it open to page one. Bold, black letters read, '_Chapter 1: Hylia's Foundation'._

"No," I comment to myself, flipping through the chapters. I pass by '_Chapter 2: Era of the Sky'_, and '_Chapter 3: Era of Miniatures'_, until I get to '_Chapter 4: Divided Relic and the Era of the Hero of Time'._ Piqued, I flip to the next page and read on.

'_Following the land's short-lived time of prosperity, the reincarnation of the Demon King sprung forth at the perfect opportunity, casting out the distraught princess and using the Spirit of the Hero as a mere pawn to open the doors to the Sacred Realm. With victory nigh, he intruded the Holy Goddesses' realm in attempts to steal the Triforce. To his sadistic exultation, the man reached the relic; however, the man's soul was shrouded by perpetual blackness and evil. Sensing this, the Triforce was split into three to keep the land of Hyrule from evil's grasp. The aforementioned man obtained Power, the princess obtained Wisdom, and the Hero of Time received Courage.'_

I look away from the text, blinking several times to set my mind straight. As I read, my hand seemed to throb unexpectedly. And when I scrutinize it, I notice how the faint, glowing light seems to be more refined now—more edged, as if it were in the shape of a triangle.

A triangle.

Tri.

Tri…

…

…

…force?

My eyes widen in complete and utter shock. But the skeptic in me calms my nerves, telling me that there's no way that the Triforce still exists today—or if it ever existed at all. But naturally, my curiosity gets the best of me as I keep flipping through the book.

'_Chapter 30: The Triforce_

_Throughout the varying legends, one relic reigned supreme among others: the holy Triforce. Made up of three golden triangles representing each of the Golden Goddesses, the Triforce was sought after by many. Only one soul in particular, however, affected the remainder of eternity by reaching this divinity: the reincarnation of the Demon King._

_At contact with the man's evil hands, the Triforce split into three, and it continued to do so throughout time up until the last-known legend._

_Based on detailed accounts of the most recent legend, each bearer of a specific goddess's piece would wield inhuman abilities—the work of the entities themselves._

_A great treasure to the Hylian Royal Family, the Triforce of Wisdom passed along with the bloodline of the Princess of Destiny. Wisdom, in addition to improved athleticism, often allowed the bearer to utilize magic against foes. The bearer could also rely on Nayru herself for direct advice._

_Courage, like both others, induced foreign abilities in the bearer. This fragment of the relic generally followed the bloodline of the Hero's spirit. In the most recent legend, the Hero could summon electricity from within his body and release it upon foes. Additionally, even in times of great peril, the bearer would be swayed by Farore to never back down._

_Power, much like Courage and Wisdom as well, gave the bearer otherworldly strength. But, to balance the three, there was a substantial surplus. Often, the wielder could utilize black magic, although that was typical among the multiple reincarnations of the Demon King.'_

Hmm. Well, I'm not a princess, I'm far from a hero (despite my new street name, mind you), and I'm not a reincarnation of any demonic kings. But I keep getting a strange feeling on my hand.

It itches. Badly.

"Nothing some lotion can't help with," I mutter to myself.

"Ew. Feeling lonely?"

I spin around to see the familiar redhead, Ralph Ambi. "Oh, it's you," I grunt curtly. "No, though—my hand just itches pretty bad."

"Pox?" he asks.

I shake my head slowly. "No…?"

"Rash?"

"I don't think so."

"Ebola?"

"What? No!"

"Quiet, man, we're in a library."

I roll my eyes, sighing heavily. "Ugh. Look—what do you want with me? From what Pipit tells me, I don't really approve of you."

"And you approve of Pipit?"

"I'm working on it."

Ralph smirks. "Anyway, I wasn't looking for you. I was looking for Zelda."

"Zelda," I repeat, narrowing my eyes subtly. "Of course."

"Pipit always seems to get in the way whenever I try to talk to her," he grumbles, clenching his fists. "Do you happen to know why? Does he have an eye on my girl?"

"Your girl?"

He blinks, just waiting for a reply.

"No," I answer after a while. "He has the brains not to pursue the headmaster's daughter."

Ralph chuckles heartily, twisting a curl of red hair in between finger and thumb. "Aha… Sorry, I thought you just said that Pipit has brains." He erupts into cheesy, fake laughter that I can see right through.

I snort. "Grow up."

Ralph ceases his false amusement, fixing me with a puzzled look. "You're quite the character, Link. I like you."

"Well I don't like you."

He sighs. "Well that's too bad."

"You are too bad," I say with a nod.

The boy sighs. "Look, man. I am not as bad as Pipit tells you. The thing is, we clash because we are too similar," he explains. "Ever heard the phrase _'opposites attract'_? Well, they do. Unfortunately, _opposites_ of opposites do _not_ attract. Get it?"

"I dunno. You used the word _'opposite'_ a lot," I reply with a bored shrug.

"Word around the school says that you're a tough kid, standing up to Groose 'n all. I admire that," Ralph admits. "Just give me a chance. I'd like to get to know you better."

"That's funny, 'cause I've heard you say that to the girls you wanna bang." I shake my head. "Unless you're bi and that was a pickup line, you're looking to use me in some way."

Ralph bites his lip, tapping his foot on the ground. "That's not true," he murmurs.

I glare at him. "What do you want from me?"

Ralph stares blankly at me for a while, then sneers. "I want your help."

About to rebuff, I curiously ask, "With what?"

"With…" Ralph grips at his hair, clenching his teeth, until he reluctantly says, "…getting friends."

I raise an eyebrow quizzically, lifting my chin slightly as I speak: "I thought the high-and-mighty Ralph Ambi was—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know I acted like everyone liked me, but that's not entirely true. See, I only get girls into my bed because they don't know who I am yet. If they knew I had no friends, then, well, let's just say I'd be a bit… inactive."

I can't help but snort, finding this whole conversation amusing. Here before me, the womanizing Ralph, admits that he's a sorrowful loner.

"It's not funny!" he exclaims.

"Dude, be quiet. We're in a library."

"I moved here in August," he continues, "and I thought everyone was gonna love me. Maybe I was too outgoing." He rubs his fingers through his tousled red hair, abashed. "But you! You came here from Ordonia, of all places, and fit in like you've been here forever."

"If only you knew," I mutter quietly.

He doesn't seem to hear. "Can you please help me out a little?" he asks. I can tell that, with his sorrow-filled eyes and desperate expression, he is sincere.

I thump my forehead with the palm of my hand, exhaling heavily. "Fine."

* * *

From my seat at the lounge, I watch with some humor and some disgust as Pipit tries to break up with his girlfriend, named… Um… Casey. Or Stephanie. Whoever that girl is.

"Look," Pipit begins with a smile, moving a strand of blonde hair behind the girl's ear. "Dating you makes me want to be a better person."

The girl smiles. "Aw, really?"

Pipit nods. "So I can date better people."

One slap in the face later, it's over; Pipit saunters back over to our booth with a spring in his step and a grin on his newly-marked face.

"Ouch," I comment idly. "You okay?"

Pipit shrugs. "Eh, when you've been slapped so many times you don't feel it anymore."

I snort. "I can only imagine."

"Hey, guys," Mikau greets, taking a seat next to me. "What's up?"

Pipit shrugs. "Well, Christie and I just broke up."

"Aw, man, that sucks," Mikau says reflexively. Then he fixes the brunette boy with a puzzled look. "…Who's Christie?"

With a sheepish grin, Pipit murmurs, "Nothing really serious with 'er, y'know. Just fooling around."

"Ah," Mikau says with a bob of the head. "A sub-girlfriend."

Pipit taps his temple with his forefinger. "Exactly."

"What's a sub-girlfriend?" I ask.

"Ooh!" Pipit exclaims, clapping his hands together. "I get to teach you your first lesson! Take notes; this is great stuff."

I sag my shoulders pathetically, looking to Mikau for any help. He just shrugs and mutters, "You walked into this one."

Pipit begins eagerly: "Aside from the standard girlfriend, there are various types of relationships you can have with a girl. Like the sub-girlfriend, for example. A non-exclusive relationship, this is probably the best in the books."

"Non-exclusive?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. "So you date more than one simultaneously?"

Pipit chuckles. "_'Date'_? What are you, twelve? Sub-girlfriends are for the sole purpose of getting l—"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I interject suddenly.

Pipit blinks.

"You need to stop fooling around with dumb bimbos and go after the real thing."

"The 'real thing'?"

"Yeah, Pipit. What Sheik and Malon have. What I'm sure Mikau and Lulu have. That's the real thing."

Pipit and Mikau share a look.

"Uh, sorry, buddy," Mikau says awkwardly, "but I'm kinda with Pip on this one. Lulu and I are just casual."

"Link," Pipit begins, pausing to take a deep, soothing breath, "don't go down that road."

"What road?"

"The road being driven on by Sheik and Malon's lesbian relationship. That ain't the real thing. You know what's the real thing?"

I shrug. "Oh, you know, house, wife, kids—"

"I'm gonna show you what the real thing is. It's not getting tied down by some clingy girlfriend like Malon, and going out to have a good time with your true bros! Are you with me?"

Pounding the table excitedly, Mikau shouts, "Yeah!"

I glare at my idiot friends. "No."

"Too bad," Pipit says, standing up from his seat. "I'm taking you out anyway. Link, have you lost your alcohol virginity yet?"

"What?"

"Exactly!" he exclaims, grabbing Mikau by the arm and pulling him up as well. "You'll need to experience this."

"Getting wasted while risking getting caught for underage drinking?"

He blinks. "…Yes!"

I look toward Mikau, who just shrugs, not being of much help. I protest, "But—"

"No buts, Link, unless they have two t's and belong to some hot chicks. And you know what that means. We're hitting the town!"

* * *

"This is a bad idea."

"Lighten up, Link. This'll be fun."

"Really, Mikau? You're letting him do this to you, too?"

"Hey, life is stressful. I've got my band to worry about, plus I'll have to keep my grades up so I have a backup plan if we tank. It's good to cut loose every now and then."

We stand at the edge of the parking lot to a bustling bar, waiting for the notorious Pipit Westbrook to arrive. He finally does, jogging toward us with a giddy smile on his face, chuckling. "The bar's called 'The Beaver Bros'!" he gushes, bursting out laughing.

"You serious?" Mikau asks with an amused grin.

"Yeah! Look at the sign!" He points to the bar.

I squint to get a better look, seeing the neon lights form into the shape of two woodland creatures, with one sitting in what appears to be an inner tube. The letters, sure enough, spell out what Pipit had told us.

"You ready to snag a few pelts?" Pipit jeers. "Let's dive in!"

Mikau and I can't help but laugh.

"Pip, I don't think we should do this."

Pipit stops, spins around, and sighs heavily. "Link, I'm sure that in your native country—"

"I was born in Hyrule, dude."

"—you have specific customs that are required to become a man. Imagine if you were in like, an ancient Aztec village. You would be forced to leave the village and not come back until you brought back a dead bear!"

"A bear?" Mikau scoffs.

"What, they don't have bears in Africa?"

"It's Mexico, you dumbass."

"Okay, an Eskimo. You know, like when an Eskimo had to kill its first polar bear—"

"None of that ever happened," I say.

"That doesn't matter!" he persists. "Here, in twenty-first century Hyrule, we go out and drink to become men."

"Look, I'm not gonna screw up my life just for one night of fun."

"Aha!" Pipit exclaims, pumping a fist in the air. "So you admit it will be fun!"

"Well, yeah, I guess." I groan. "Fine. Let's go."

I reluctantly set off toward the bar with my two idiotic friends, mentally planning not to drink at all. One of us will have to drive us home, after all, so I'll step up. Not that I really want to drink, though; Rusl often warned me about the negative effects alcohol can do to a person. I don't think I would like not being in control of my own self.

Pipit meanwhile, thinks differently. "We're gonna get hammered!"

I roll my eyes and laugh, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll do that later, yeah? Right now we have to worry about getting past the bouncer."

"Heh," Mikau snickers, "the beaver bouncer."

"Nice!" Pipit gives him a high-five. "We're good, though, Link. I already scoped this joker out. He's half-drunk. He'll let a four-year-old in if he's given the chance."

I gaze ahead at the bar's entrance, seeing a somewhat-off-balance man stumbling every now and then as he allows schools of men through. He wears an unusually small black shirt and jeans, holding a metal flask in both hands.

"Let's go," Pipit announces, charging forward with me and Mikau in tow. "Excuse me, Mister…" Pipit squints at the name tag on the bouncer's chest. "…Tommy?"

The man, in a flamboyant, not-at-all-masculine tone, says, "It's Tummy."

"Timmy?" I ask.

"It's _Tummy._"

"Tammy?" Mikau asks.

"_Tummy._"

I squint, a bit weirded out, but nod at him nonetheless. "That's a… pretty name, Tummy."

"So, listen, Tums," Pipit begins, placing a hand on the guy's shoulder, "can you let us in?"

Tummy looks down at Pipit's hand and grins suggestively. Pipit retracts it immediately, backing up a step. The bouncer scrutinizes the three of us for a solid ten seconds. Oh, gods, maybe this was a bad idea.

Well, it definitely _was,_ but you know what I mean.

"Hmm," Tummy finally says, "were you three all born male?"

Pipit squints. "Uh, yeah?"

Tummy smiles widely.

"Look, dude, are you gonna let us in or not?"

The bouncer shrugs. "I guess the bar could use some diversity."

"Huh?"

"Yes, you may enter."

Pipit grabs our arms and drags us into the bar, hurrying past the bouncer who seems to have a crush on Pipit. "You know," I say when we enter the bar, "I'm starting to think that guy isn't a _beaver_ bouncer."

They nod.

At once, we turn our heads forward, and we're met with a harrowing sight. Men dressed up as women, trouncing about with wigs, makeup, and breast implants. Women dressed as men, hanging in a corner with fake beards and no familiar lump in the throat.

Mikau and I simultaneously inhale deeply, exhale, then slowly turn to look at Pipit. He gazes, wide-eyed, at the scene in front of us. "Pipit," Mikau begins, "did you know…"

"…That this is a tranny bar?" I finish.

Pipit looks from me to Mikau, then to the floor. "You know, maybe it being named 'The Beaver _Bros'_ should've clued me in."

"Link!" someone yells from within the bar.

Pipit and Mikau whip their heads to look at me, confused. "Who in here could know who you are?"

"Link, are you a regular to this bar?" Mikau asks.

"No, I don't know who—" I freeze.

Shoving through the crowd—of men, I think?—is none other than my double, Dark Nyton. "Link! What's up, kid? I haven't seen you since last night! Boy, was that intense."

Mikau and Pipit burst out laughing uncontrollably.

"Shut up!" I say to them.

They don't.

"We didn't—He's just—You guys know that I'm not—"

"Link," Dark says, "allow me." He walks closer to the two of them, leaning his head forward and just… _staring_ at them.

They halt immediately. Their eyes grow wide as they fix him with a look of pure shock, then their eyes dart to me, and then back to Dark.

They just realized it.

Dark grins. "'Sup."

"Link," Mikau begins slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Dark's, "since when do you have a goth brother?"

Sighing, I shove a palm in my face. "Dark, what are you doing in a tranny bar?"

He blinks at me. "A tranny bar? What's that mean?"

I scoff. "You know. Tranny—transgender. Someone who switches genders."

"Huh." Dark shrugs. "Well I happen to like these people. Not in a sexual way, though. They're really honest and open."

"I'll say," Pipit grumbles, eyeing a couple of wig-wearing dudes.

"So you're name's Dark?" Mikau asks. "You look a lot like Link."

"Thank you!"

"It wasn't really a compliment," he admits.

Shooting him a contemptuous look, I exclaim, "Hey!"

"I'm not his brother, though," Dark explains. "I'm his sh—"

"He's not related to me," I interrupt. "He's just my doppelganger. You know, everyone has one."

Pipit squints at me. "I don't believe that."

"Well here's some hard evidence."

Pipit exhales audibly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Whatever."

"So you believe me?"

"Not even the slightest," he says. "But a lot of weird stuff had been going on with you, so I'm just sort of rollin' with it."

I shrug. "Good enough."

"Did you guys come here to drink or just stand around?" Dark inquires, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Let's ride!" He takes me to a booth in the back; soon Mikau and Pipit join, too.

"So," Pipit begins, drumming rhythmically on the table with his palms. "We got past the bouncer, but I don't think we can get past the bartender."

Dark grins. "Oh, that's right. You're minors. Don't worry. I've got you guys covered."

"Wait, but you look just like Link," Mikau chimes. "You're not a minor?"

"Ha!" exclaims the shadow boy. "Nah. I am much older." He turns to head toward the bar.

As Mikau and Pipit fix one another with puzzled looks, I exit the booth and follow after Dark. "Dude," I say, palming his shoulder, "stop confusing them. You know that they're humans. They're not gonna be able to handle all this supernatural crap."

"You're human, and you handled it," Dark argues with a nonchalant shrug.

"Not too well," I say. "Just keep all the mystery down to a minimum, 'kay? I'd hate to start having to keep you away from my friends."

"Roger that, captain." He offers me a salute of mockery. "Now let's get smashed."

"But how are you gonna prove that you're over twenty-one? I mean, you look just like me."

"Oh. Right. Well, a few days after I materialized, I went to this one place to get a proper ID. I told the guy my name and he said I wasn't able to be located on the database. I told him that was because I was just born into this world. He was a nice guy, so he helped me out and made me a fake one."

"So… he actually believed that you were just born into this world?"

"Uh… I think so."

"What kind of lunatic is this?"

Dark shrugs. "I don't know. His name was like, Agha—something. Aghanim, maybe. Sound familiar?"

We reach the bar, and I squint, pondering that. A chill runs down my spine and my hand seems to tingle, but I don't recollect having heard that name in the past. Nonetheless, I shake my head. "Not really, no."

"Alright, then. Now let's order some drinks, huh? Yo, bartender!"

The man behind the counter makes his way over to us. "Ooh," he says with a flirtatious grin, "twins, huh? And it looks like one of you has a dark side… Sexy."

Dark smirks. "Thanks. Two Bud Lights, please. And a Pepsi, if you have any."

"Not gonna drink? Responsible, aren't you… Hot."

Dark shrugs. "Yeah, I'm not much of a drinker." Well, he copied that trait of mine, as well.

"Then what are you doing in a bar?" the bartender asks with a teasing bat of his mascara-filled eyelashes.

"Having a good time," responds my double with a flashy grin, leaning forward on the counter.

"Good answer." He turns around to retrieve our order.

I fix Dark with an accusative look. "Are you flirting?" I whisper.

"No ring on the finger. He's fair game."

"No, I mean—you're gay?"

"I like both."

I squint in confusion. "Well, you didn't copy that from me. I like girls and girls only."

"Oh, I know. This is just my preference."

The bartender returns with our drinks—two dark bottles of light beer and a glass of bubbly cola. "I am a little suspicious about your age, though."

Dark chuckles. "Oh, that's sweet. You think I'm a minor! That must mean that my working out has paid off." He grabs at his bicep, offering the guy a wink.

The bartender smiles. "Put it on a tab?"

We shake our heads, and Dark says, "Nah. These will be our only drinks."

"Name, then?"

I say, "Pipit." Dark raises an eyebrow at me, so I explain: "It was his idea to take us here, so he might as well pay for it."

"Okay, here's this," the man says, handing us the bill. "Enjoy your drinks."

"Enjoy the view," Dark replies slyly as he turns around to walk away. I groan in disgust as I follow after him, feeling the bartender's perverted eyes on our backs.

"Way to improvise," I compliment him. "Although you could've just shown him your fake ID."

"But then I wouldn't be able to have any fun with him," Dark replies with a chuckle.

We arrive back at the table, and Dark slides the bill over to Pipit. "This is for you."

Pipit glares down at the slip of paper while taking a swig of his Bud Light. "It says… _'Tidbit'_."

Mikau snorts. "Tidbit?"

"How could they get _Tidbit_ from _Pipit_? It's not even a real name—it sounds so stupid!"

Mikau and eye one another simultaneously, smirks forming on our faces.

Pipit sags against the booth seat. "You're gonna start calling me Tidbit, now, aren't you…"

Mikau, Dark, and I snicker mischievously.

"Ugh…" Pipit throws his face into his open palms, grumbling.

"Tidbit."

"Shut up."

"Tidbit!"

"Shut _up_!"

"Hey, don't be Tid-bitter."

"UGH!" Pipit chugs his bottle of Bud Light, fights the bile that seems to be rising to his throat, slides out of the booth, and storms away from us.

"Hey!" I shout, following after him. "Don't Tid-quit on us! C'mon, Tidbit!"

* * *

Sunday, October 15

I sit alone at our regular booth in the lounge, writing fervently to finish an HLA assignment due tomorrow. I've just been so frazzled lately, schoolwork has been the least of my worries. With idiot friends, doppelgangers, and dangerous gangsters, there really isn't much time for analyzing any novels. Since it's around ten in the morning on a Sunday, the lounge is virtually desolate, so it's a good spot to do my work.

Ugh. School. I never realized it could bring this much stress into my life.

"Are you still mad at me?"

I look up to see Sheik, wrapped warmly in a gray sweatshirt, with his hands meekly jammed into his jeans pockets. I shrug and, after awhile, reply, "Kinda."

He takes a seat across from me, refusing to meet my eyes, and folds his hands out in front of him. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

I shake my head, resuming my assignment. "I don't need any favors."

An uncomfortable silence settles into the room, and for a brief moment all that's heard is the sound of my pencil scribbling barely-decipherable words onto my sheet of paper. "So I heard you went out with Mikau and Pipit—er, I mean, Tidbit."

"Yeah."

He takes a deep breath, then utters, "Why?"

"Why what."

"Why Pipit?"

I drop my pencil and meet his eyes. "Because Pipit somehow always puts me in a good mood. That's why I went out with him."

"So I put you in a bad mood?"

"Well, my mood was fine until you came here."

"Damn, you sound like a girl."

"Coming from you, Dr. Estrogen. You're the girliest dude I know."

"Didn't you go to a tranny bar last night?"

"That was Pipit's fault!"

Sheik groans, palming his face in frustration. "Why are you even mad at me? I'm just trying to help you out, 'kay?"

I lose my cool, standing up abruptly so I stare down at him with indignation. "Do you want to know why I get along better with people like Pipit, Mikau, or Mido?! It's because instead of reminding me of all the shit that happened to me—like _you_ do—they help me forget it by trying to make me _enjoy life_! Not _hate_ it!"

"So I make you hate your life?"

Ignoring him, I continue: "What I do when I'm not with friends is just something that the gaping hole in my heart needs. Sometimes that requires me to do things I'd normally never dream of doing. When I am with my friends, the last thing I want is them to find out what my other life is like."

The tense silence returns, and once again neither of us can meet the other's eyes. Sheik sighs, murmuring, "The way you said that makes me think you're hiding a really big secret."

Finding flaws in any possible reply, I simply let the question hang.

"And," he adds gingerly, "that thing on your hand kinda proves that."

I look down at my right hand, noticing the familiar golden light emanating from the skin. Except now, the light takes on a familiar shape.

Three triangles, with the bottom-right one shining the brightest.

Well. _That_ can't be normal.

* * *

**Okay. I'm gonna respond to some reviewers now.**

**FanaticMarioMan, I understand that this is close to a "copy" of Spider-Man, but I must say, I am no copier. These intro chapters do take a few scenes, but if you really watch the movie, they're altered majorly. As the story progresses and the plot deepens you'll notice just how different this story is. ReaderFromHyrule, I took your advice and put a summary at the beginning of each chapter, so thanks for that idea. HeligaDark, Skyward Sword's Link was right-handed to accommodate the vast majority of people who would preferably use their right hand for the Wii Motion Plus; this story's Link is the Skyward Sword version, so I kept his dominant hand the same.**

**Thanks for reviewing, everyone! Remember, if you have a specific question, leave a review and I'll either PM you or answer it here (if I feel that my entire audience should see my explanation).**

**That's about it for now. To be continued!**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	8. Bro

**Whoa. It's been a month. What happened?**

**Summer. That's what happened.**

**Also, believe it or not, I'm actually easing my way back into _Shadow Agent._ Expect an update for it by early July.**

**Last time in Hyrule…**

**Our buddy Link got a new street tag—"Hero"—and a new sidekick, Dark. Also, Ralph Ambi, Pipit's main nemesis in the game of playing women, admitted to Link how he has no friends, and he guilted Link into helping him out. During a night out at a transgender bar, Pipit earned himself a neat little nickname, "Tidbit". Finally, the light coming from Link's hand seemed to have formed into the symbol of the Triforce.**

**Aight, cool. Read along.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 8: Bro**

* * *

Sunday , October 15

"Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Well, I'm sure lookin' better than you, of course."

"No." I shake my head. "Start over."

"What was wrong with that?"

"Arrogance. People don't like it."

"Fine." Ralph groans, hanging his head. "Hi."

"Hi."

"How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, thanks. You?"

"Horrible. My life is awful and I am a loser."

I shake my head again, intake a deep breath, and say, "No. People don't like woe-is-me crap, either."

"Well, what _do_ people like?"

"Everyone says they like honesty, but that isn't true. Honesty sucks."

"So… lie?"

"To protect their feelings, yes."

Ralph grumbles, sagging down against the tree trunk until he sits in the cool grass. "This sucks," he whines, pulling idly on a few grass blades with thumb and forefinger. "I don't understand people."

I roll my eyes, looking down at him with a bit of amusement. "Well, you said you wanted help getting friends, didn't you?"

Ralph hangs his head in defeat. "Yeah, alright."

"You seem to be alright with Mido, though, right?" I ask. "I mean, he and Sheik invited you to sit down at our booth."

"They were just being polite, y'know. That's who they are."

I blink in surprise at his pessimism. Just days ago Ralph was this calm, collected dude who seduced some of the hottest girls around—just not _the_ hottest girl around, mind you. Now, he's this vulnerable, pathetic mess, sniveling before me with his head in his arms. "Well after you left, I remember Sheik saying that you were cool."

"He probably just wants my Rolex," Mido grumbles cynically, gesturing awkwardly with his wrist so the sunlight glints off the metallic surface of his watch. "But he won't accept me into your guys' little group. He knows that Pipit and I have a very strong rivalry."

"That's a good point," I admit with a light shrug, biting my lip. "We need to get you a good group of bros. What are your interests?"

"Sex."

I snort. "Sex? That's it?"

He nods simply.

"You need a hobby," I say.

"That _is_ my hobby, dude."

"Then get a better hobby."

He groans, gripping at his tousled red hair in frustration. "I dunno—baseball, maybe? I used to play in junior high."

An invisible light bulb hovers over my head at that moment. "Try out for the baseball team, then. You'll have a chance to make friends there."

Ralph shakes his head. "…That's gonna be a while; the season doesn't start until spring. What will I do 'til then?"

"Tough it out?"

He glares at me. "Link."

"Well, like you said, I don't think you'll be able to fit in with my friends."

"Right," he agrees, urging me on with a nod of the head.

"Um…" I bite my lip. "What else interests you? Think about it."

"I like Italian food."

"That doesn't really help."

Ralph shrugs.

Who would he fit in with? Well, I don't know! I barely know twenty people at this school!

Distraught, I look out toward the boys' dorm, hearing familiar voices: "Yo, DiCaprio! C'mon, let's go to the city."

"Quit calling me that, Arian," Leo groans, following his buddy down the sidewalk toward the edge of campus.

"Bingo," I murmur, grabbing Ralph by the arm and yanking him upward. I grip the redhead's shoulders and spin him around. "Leo and Arian. Superstar duo, soon-to-be trio. Ever talked to them?"

"No. Will they hate me?"

I grin. "Arian is very popular with the female students and has a friendly competition with Pipit. Leo is the star of the baseball team. And," I add, raising a finger in the air, "he's Italian."

Ralph raises his eyebrows. "Alright, cool."

"Wait," I say, raising a finger in the air. "Before you go, remember this…"

"What?"

I narrow my eyes pointedly at him. "Don't be a jackass."

* * *

"Excuse me, Mr. Masca?" I ask, knocking on his barely-ajar classroom door. "May I come in?"

The grouchy teacher's voice from inside grumbles, "That depends on who it is."

"It's Zelda."

"You're male."

"It's the headmaster."

"You're also a kid."

I roll my eyes and barge in anyway. "Yeah, thanks. So listen, Mr. Mascara. I want to know—"

"Get out of here right now, Mr. Gaiden," Rupin commands, thrusting a bony finger outward in the direction of the recently-opened door. "It is a Sunday and you should not be in school."

"Yeah, well it's also impolite to interrupt," I scold, wagging a finger at him with an amused smirk. "I want to know if you sell gloves."

The teacher squints at me, standing up from his chair. "So you came here… to _purchase_ something from me?"

"A glove, yeah."

Rupin sighs heavily, closing his eyes as he stands before me. "…Fine," he spits after a while, whirling around to face a stack of metal briefcases on his desk. He scans the labels until he gets to the near bottom of the stack, then pulls out one of the briefcases, labeled: GLOVES.

"So now you're the Happy Glove Salesman?" I ask.

"Technically I should be the Happy Accessory Salesman, but I've already built up a reputation from being the man who sells masks, but in consequence I don't get much business from people who want other things—" He stops, squints in confusion, then shakes his head. "Why am I telling you this? Never mind."

"So," I say hesitantly after awhile. "Gloves?"

"Gloves," he repeats begrudgingly with a curt nod. With a flick of the briefcase's locks, the container flips open, and Rupin gestures toward them with a wave of a hand. "Pick any you like. Twenty rupees for a pair."

I scan the contents of the briefcase, my eyes instinctively landing on a pair of brown leather gloves. "These. How big are they?"

Rupin picks them up, unfolding the gloves. "For hands with a handspan of around nine-and-a-half inches."

I nod. "Cool. I'll take 'em." Withdrawing my wallet, I prepare to find a red rupee to hand to my biology teacher.

"Not so fast," he grunts, lifting his chin sharply. "These are exclusives. Eighty rupees."

I squint skeptically at him. "Exclusives?"

He nods simply, holding his stern gaze steadfast.

I scoff at him. "Are you just saying that 'cause you have a dumb grudge against me? Why are they exclusives?"

"A true rarity. These are hand-woven, fingerless Gonzo Gazola gloves made with the hide from the finest cows at Lon Lon Ranch. They're custom-made for museums to dress their Hero of Time mannequins appropriately. There are only one hundred in existence. And you're getting them for a mere eighty rupees." He narrows his eyes at me. "Now. You were saying?"

I blink. "…You're lying."

He shakes his head. "I am not. Salesman's honor."

"That exists?"

He glares at me.

To make sure I'm not being scammed, I begin to interrogate him, keeping in mind the tips Detective Shad had given me on this subject. "What year did you purchase these?" I ask.

"In 2009."

"For how much?"

"Twenty-five rupees from a foolish salesman who was ignorant of their true worth."

"Name a museum these gloves are found in."

"The Hero of Time Exhibits in the Lanayru Museum, Faron Museum, and Eldin Museum."

"Thickness of fibers?"

"Fifteen microns, approximately."

"Breathability?"

"Substantial."

"Traction?"

"Improved."

He seems to be telling the truth, I conclude, yanking out four red rupees instead of one. "Okay. Deal."

Rupin extends his left hand, into which I drop the currency, and he pockets it. "Thank you for your business," he says insincerely with an artificial grin. He reaches out his right hand for a shake.

I take it, giving his bony hand a firm shake, being sure not to inflict too much pain into him. When I pull it away quickly, Rupin tosses me the pair of fine gloves.

"You know," he says with an amused smirk, "I can see now why you need those."

I grip the gloves tightly in my right hand, squint at him as I realize my mistake, and briskly turn around to make my way out of the classroom.

"Hey," he calls with humor in his tone, "you might want to talk to Mr. Lux about that."

I ignore him, shutting the door softly behind me. "Damn," I murmur to myself, lightly hitting my forehead with my palm. I turn my hand over to look at the back of it, seeing the symbol flare up in golden light as my eyes make contact with it. "You need to behave," I grunt.

Ending the brief conversation I was having with my hand, I carefully push it through the lightweight, fingerless gloves I just purchased, nodding to myself when I notice that the symbol is, indeed, covered up by the fabric.

Good.

Satisfied with its performance, I decide to leave the left glove off. It looks pretty badass, if I do say so myself. With a small nod to myself, I make my way out of the school.

Outside, I let the doors shut behind me and I intake a breath of fresh air. I take out my FiPhone, checking for anything I've missed since talking to Rupin. Yep—one new message from Zelda, and one missed call from Pipit.

With a small, uncontrollable smile, I check the message from Zelda first.

Hey, it reads. _Do you wanna meet me at Castle Park at_ _3?_

My eyes widen. She wants to hang out with me…

Again.

Wow.

My grin widening, I excitedly type in: _Sure._

Nonchalance—a tactic Pipit taught me. It doesn't make you seem obsessed, clingy, or needy. Unlike the classic "playing hard to get" tactic, this doesn't make you seem like an individualistic jerk.

And here I go again. Using advice from the sociopathic Pipit.

Speak of the devil, I nearly forgot about the aforementioned sociopath's call I missed. Hastily, I dial up Pipit's number and put the phone to my ear.

"Link! Lounge! Now!" Pipit's frantic voice hollers into my eardrum.

"What?" I ask, squinting in confusion. "Why?"

"Th-there's an emergency!"

"The last emergency of yours was that Taco Bell came out with a Cool Ranch version of the Doritos taco," I groan with a glazed-over facial expression.

"More important than that!"

"Then what is it?"

"Hot girls!" he shouts. "Fighting! Girl fight!"

I roll my eyes, exasperated. "The Taco Bell thing was more interesting than this."

Pipit gasps. "…Link! How could… how could you even… say… such words?! My gods, are you straight?!"

"Sorry, Pip, but watching slutty girls pull one another's hair isn't my idea of a good time."

There comes a long, uncomfortable pause. "Then… what… is?" he demands.

"Well tonight I have plans with Zelda."

Pipit stops his rant, then whistles suggestively. "Whoa. Respect, bro!"

"Not those kinds of plans, you perv," I grumble. "We're going to Castle Park tonight."

"Ooh, a little public scene, huh?"

"No, Pipit. I just mean we're gonna enjoy each other's company."

"_Yeah,_ you are!"

"Pipit! Dude—Zelda and I are not having sex."

He hangs up on me.

* * *

"Hey," calls a familiar voice. "Over here, Link!"

Straying from the Castle Park concrete pathway, I head toward the source of the voice. Sitting atop a wide but short boulder, shaded by a maple tree with leaves bathed in the colors of autumn, is Zelda. I greet her with a grin and a friendly wave, then pull myself up to sit next to her on the large rock.

"Hey, Zel," I say.

"Hi," she responds with a sincere smile.

Gods. She's beautiful.

This whole "not getting too attached" thing might be tougher than I imagined.

"So… you okay?" I ask, meeting her ocean-blue eyes. "I mean, you asked me to come here kind of suddenly, so I was thinking you had an issue, or something."

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay," she says, waving it off, but her smile drops, which convinces me otherwise.

Unsure whether or not to prod, I just say, "Well, you can talk to me if you ever need to."

Wow. That was pretty solid.

Zelda offers me a small and rather sad smile, then subtly scoots closer to me and closes the gap between us—in fact, I barely notice it. "Thank you," she says. "…A-and I hope you know that—" She pauses, patting my knee softly with her palm, "with the rough times you're going through—you can talk to me, too."

Holy crap. I am so, _so_ tempted to kiss her right now. Everything she says somehow makes me feel better, like she's the cure to all my problems. Cheesy as it may seem, I mean it.

…But I can't give in. I can't allow my foul luck to reach her. What kind of person would I be then? I'd be responsible for any misfortune brought upon her. So I must keep my distance. Or, at least, try to.

My eyes drop to the pale, dainty hand resting softly at my knee. I intake a breath, then slowly move my left hand toward hers until it rests on top of it. "Zelda," I say. "What's wrong?"

She sighs then, her own eyes dropping to our connected hands. "Nothing in particular," she responds with a small shrug. "Just… an all-around sucky day."

"How so?"

She bites her lip, shyly meeting my gaze once more. "…Do you ever have one of those days where everyone seems like they're going up against you, and you have no idea who to turn to?" she asks. "Do you ever have one of those days?"

I shrug, admitting, "About twice a week."

She laughs lightly, then saddens again. "It's just… I keep being bugged by a lot of people—my friends, mostly. They have no boundaries."

"I can relate."

She laughs again. "I know. Especially with Pipit, huh?"

I nod, gently rubbing her hand with mine. "Yeah. So, what about your friends bugs you?"

"Well," she begins, "the fact that they really want to set me up with this rich kid, who, I mean, does actually seem pretty cool, but I feel like…" She stops, closing her eyes.

"They only want you to be with him because of his money," I finish for her.

"Yeah…"

"Who's the guy?" I inquire curiously.

She drops her gaze to the grass that surrounds the rock we sit on. "You know Ralph, right? Ralph Ambi?"

I mentally grumble. "Yeah, I know him," I say. "The archenemy of Pipit."

"Right," she says. "That's another reason I don't want to go through with this."

"Go through with what?"

"The date."

I blink. "…There's a date?"

She blinks back. "Yeah, my friends set me up with him."

"…Oh," I say, trying my hardest not to look disappointed, jealous, or anything I was really feeling inside.

Zelda sighs, putting a palm to her forehead. "I'm sorry to bother you with my problems; I know you're going through a lot right now."

"I really don't mind," I say, offering her a smile.

"Gods, I swear, you're the nicest guy in this whole city," she murmurs, a flash of pink appearing on her cheeks. "Why is that?"

With a shrug, I say, "Probably because I'm not from the city."

Zelda nods. "Probably." After a pause, she groans in frustration. "Ugh… I don't want to go meet Ralph…"

I perk up. "Then don't," I say.

She squints at me, confused. "What?"

"Don't go meet him, then."

"Link, I have to—"

I shake my head. "No, you don't. If you don't want to, then you shouldn't."

"But what about Ralph?" she asks. "I can't stand him up, that'll crush him."

"You could just text your friends that you're not going. They'll handle the rest."

Zelda bites her lip. "…Well, then I guess it's another boring day for me today." She takes out her phone, then begins texting.

"It doesn't have to be," I say. She stops to look over at me. With a grin, I continue: "You and I should hang out for the rest of the day."

A faint blush surfaces on her cheeks, and she offers me a grateful half-smile. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?" I say with a shrug.

Her smile widens, and she looks even more beautiful than before. "Okay," she says.

* * *

As the sun begins to set on this Sunday evening, we walk down the maroon- and white-tiled road, observing the quaint shops on either side. This must be the older part of the city, I muse.

"What is this place called?" I ask Zelda.

She looks over at me with a smile. "The Tri-District. I love it here."

"It's pretty old," I comment, "compared to the rest of the city. And it doesn't smell all too bad."

She giggles, nodding. "Yeah. This is where they say the old Castle Town used to be, back in the old days."

"Yeah?"

She nods, and we keep walking.

I intake a peaceful breath, enjoying this. "You know," I say after a brief moment, "I've actually never seen Hyrule Castle."

"That's because you've spent your whole time here in the city area," she explains. "It's a castle, so it wouldn't belong in the modern area."

I squint. "So, is it near here?"

Her smile never leaving, she stops, faces me, and grabs my shoulders. Before I even have the chance to wonder if she's about to kiss me or not, she spins me around. "Look behind you," she laughs.

All I can say is "Whoa."

It's not what I'd pictured: bright lights and artillery canons off looming skyscrapers. No, it is simply an old, stone castle—though not much is simple about it. It's _huge._ Its four outermost spires soar upward until they practically touch the stratosphere, and the central tower, with a base area larger than the entire academy, is even higher.

"That's where King What's-His-Name lives?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"King Gustaf, yes."

I turn my gaze over to her. Zelda looks up at the edifice, a light breeze carrying her blonde hair, with a twinkle in her eye. Standing there, gazing at her, I've figured out why I can't stop thinking about her.

She's amazing.

You know what… I'm just going to go for it. All cards on the table. I'm going for it. I'm going to kiss her, show her how I feel.

I take a step toward her, and she slowly turns to look at me. Gods, she's beautiful. I can do it. I can do it.

"AAAAAAHHH!" yelps a nearby voice.

My instincts kicking in, I tear my gaze away from Zelda and frantically try to locate the source of the outburst.

"What was that?" Zelda gasps.

I see it. There, at the street corner about a quarter mile away, a crowd of people are scurrying away for dear life, while a man is on a rampage, pointing his rifle in the air and firing, yelling at street vendors to give him their money.

Zelda gasps again, clings to my side, and says, "Link, we've gotta go!"

But somehow, the man turns his head toward me. I stand there, my fierce gaze locked with his. Zelda freezes in place, her eyes wide in horror, but I step in front of her.

The man… I recognize him.

It's Sakon, the guy that Ghirahim met with in the abandoned parking lot days ago.

"You!" he shouts, dashing toward us. "The boy who turned in Ghirahim and Vaati!"

I stay still, like a western sheriff facing the outlaw amidst an epic standoff, wiggling my fingers to summon some energy.

Sakon stops fifteen feet away, his bald head reflecting the orange evening light.

"You've got the wrong guy," I say.

"No…" Sakon shakes his head quickly. "No! Veran described you!"

I squint. "I've never met with—"

Oh. Right. Veran is Ghirahim and Vaati's lawyer. They described me to her.

Sakon offers me a wry smile, raises his gun, and hollers, "Ganondorf wants you, dead or alive!"

Zelda quivers behind me in fear.

"Any last words?" he asks, grinning maniacally.

I nod. "Yeah—In the future, don't ask that question to your victims."

Sakon cocks his head. "What? Why?"

I sneer. "It gives them a chance to do this."

I raise my palm and point it at the man, releasing a bolt of energy. The bolt flies through the air, enters Sakon's body, and causes him to thrash violently in place before falling helplessly to his knees.

I turn around and wrap my arms around Zelda, who stands there in shock, and she returns the hug. "…L-Link?" she asks meekly, shaking slightly.

"Yes?"

She backs up to look at me with wet eyes. "…W-what was that?"

I need to tell her. I can trust her. With a sad smile, I pull away from Zelda, then slowly take the overpriced leather glove off my right hand. I turn it over, showing her the symbol on the back. "It's called the Triforce of Courage."

She peers down at it with confusion and shock, then looks back up to me. "Is that…?"

I nod slowly. "My ability source, yes."

She closes her eyes, feeling overwhelmed, and I pull her back into a hug. "I'm going to have to call my detective," I say, pulling out my cell. She nods against my shoulder without saying a word. Dialing up Shad's number, I turn my head to look at the body of Sakon.

…Except that he's now gone.

"Hello? Link, I'm kinda busy; there was a shooting out in the Tri-District—"

"Yeah, Shad, I'm there."

"Well, did you see the shooter?"

"Yes. An M.O.D. member by the name of Sakon. I incapacitated him."

"Great, we'll be there in—"

"But..." I sigh, "he's gone now."

"What?! No—never mind, I have to go." Shad hangs up.

Zelda pulls away from me once again, looking where I had too, only to see that Sakon had disappeared.

"Come on," I say to Zelda. "Let's get you home."

* * *

_"Welcome to Hyrule, ya bitch-ass piece_ _o'_ _shit!"_ Dark bellows, swinging his halberd until it connects with the side of a bokoblin's head. The creature wails, falling on its back until it dissolves into a cloud of purple smoke.

"Good shot," I murmur, patting him on the shoulder. "But even I could do that to a little bokoblin."

"What," he begins, arms outstretched, "you don't think I can take somethin' bigger?"

"Have you?"

Dark scoffs, as if he remembers something that I should as well. "The Aeralfos?"

"Oh, come on," I groan, "you got lucky. You would've been dead meat if it just had a better grip on your arms."

"And you were rootin' for that to happen? Some sidekick you are."

"I'm the superhero—_you're_ the sidekick."

"Do you really want to start this argument again?!"

I sigh in defeat, shaking my head and grunting, "No."

Sirens blare suddenly through the once-still night. Dark squints his eyes shut, listening intently. "They're nearby, possibly on Fifth—"

A police car whizzes past us. "Aah!" Dark yelps. "Link—cover! Now!" He grabs my arm and steers me into the alley we were hanging near.

"More are coming," I grunt, reaching into my pack for my green cap, shoving it onto my head haphazardly. I peek around the corner, noticing that a line of four more police cars are following the lead one, whizzing past us in a blur.

A raspy voice comes from the back of our alley, chilling Dark and I to the bone: "What're you kids hidin' from them cops for?"

Our eyes growing wide, we slowly turn our heads to the source of the voice. "Uh…" Dark begins hesitantly. "We, er… just robbed a liquor store."

All we can see is a faint, shadowy outline of a figure at the back of the alley. "Then where's your liquor?" the voice asks.

Dark and I share a frantic look. "…We dropped it."

There comes a hearty cackle as the voice seems to be laughing, and the owner draws nearer into the faint light of a nearby street lamp. The figure's gnarled, wrinkled face is illuminated in the yellow light. His skin is a sickly gray, his eyes a maroon hue, his head shrouded in a black hood. The man outstretches his arms, and the thick sleeves of his dark robe droop downward. "I understand," he cooes. "You're wanted for somethin'."

"Hey…" Dark murmurs, squinting to focus in on the man's face. "…I've seen you before."

"I disagree," he says, suspiciously lowering his head to allow the hood to mask more of his face. "Aside from workin', I rarely leave my hut in the forests of Faronville."

Dark glares at him. "No—I'm certain I've seen you before."

"Well," the man begins, revealing yellow teeth in a wry smile as he darts his eyes between us, "everybody has a _doppelganger,_ correct?"

A chill runs down my spine. He's noticed our resemblance.

Once more, the man smiles devilishly, clasping his withering hands together out in front of him. "Tonight's when the cops 're comin' out. Tonight's when they're lookin' for them thugs." He pauses. "Say, 're you some of 'em?"

"Us? Thugs?" I say. "No."

After a brief hesitation, the man sighs lightly. "Well. For whatever reason you have for hidin', I'd gladly take you into my shop." He waves his arm outward, gesturing to a heavy door leading into the building to our left.

"You know," I say, "I think we're okay."

"Are you sure?" the man inquires. "I know a lot about the goings on 'round these streets. If you want info, I can give you some. I'd hate to find your dead bodies lyin' 'round here someday."

I blink—once, twice, thrice—thinking deeply, considering his offer. Info… I could use some of that. Maybe I could get a new lead on the elusive M.O.D. gang lord. After a while, I make my decision: "Okay."

Dark hits me in the chest, fixing me with a look of shock and worry. I nod at him to show that I know what I'm doing.

We follow the strange man through the door into his shop, and he flicks on the lights. "Welcome to my business."

The compact shop consists mainly of file cabinets, and a laptop sitting on a large wooden desk with one chair on one side and two chairs on the other.

The man takes a seat on the lone chair's side, gesturing for us to sit across from him. "Please, take a seat."

Hesitantly, we comply, still hearing the faint cry of police sirens outside the walls. I squint at the piece of paper lying askew on the desk, which reads in the top-right corner: C.T. LICENSING.

I nudge Dark and point to it. Dark's eyes widen, and it looks like he's about to speak, but the man beats him to it.

"Now," he says, "what questions do you have for me?"

I look at Dark, who has his mouth clamped shut, and decide to ask, "Can you remove your hood?"

"No," he replies quickly. "…I was once horribly wounded. I prefer to keep my face concealed."

"Okay." That was a little suspicious. "What do you know of the M.O.D.'s leader?"

"The single most dangerous man alive. He seems to be in charge of all these critters crawlin' 'round town; or, at least, that's what I've heard."

"Where is their stronghold located?"

He sighs a ragged breath. "Oy—I'm afraid I can't tell you that. That would be me sendin' you off to your grave."

"I insist."

The man chuckles. "What is your fascination with the Men of Demise for?"

"What is your knowledge of the Men of Demise for?"

He thinks. For quite awhile, actually, until he speaks once again: "…I listen to the rumors."

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

"Thanks for your hospitality but I think we should go now," Dark announces hastily.

"But, the cops," the man says.

"We can fend for ourselves."

With that, Dark grabs me by the arm and pulls me out of the shop, but my eyes never leave the man. I keep glaring at him until I see the heavy door separate us.

"Dark," I say.

"Link," he says.

"I think he's in the M.O.D."

"What? Nah, can't be. Y'know why?"

I shake my head. "Why?"

"'Cause that's the dude that gave me my credit card and my identity," he explains, taking out his ID card that he had showed me before at the tranny bar. "Remember this? He was lying. I have seen him before. He's that Aghanim dude."

"But why would he want to hide his identity?" I ask, squinting in confusion.

Dark shrugs. "No idea."

"Whatever," I groan. "I've gotta get home. All the mystery in this damn city is giving me a migraine problem."

* * *

Monday, October 16

"If I ever have a son," Sheik blurts out randomly, "I'm going to name him Adam."

"Adam?" I repeat. "Why?"

"I like that name. It's strong."

"What about the middle name?"

"Sheik. After me, of course."

I pause. "Adam Sheik Shadow…. Dude, you're gonna wanna change that."

"Why?"

"The initials spell 'ass'."

Pipit, Sheik, and I chuckle. "Fine," he grunts, "I'll change it. What about you, Link? What's your kid gonna be named?"

I grin. "If it's a boy, Link."

Pipit laughs. "That's a good one, buddy." Patting me on the shoulder, he offers me an amused grin.

I glare at him.

"Your son needs an amazing name…." Pipit gazes longingly outward at the now-appearing stars. "A name so awesomely amazing, everyone will bow down to him upon introduction…."

"What kind of name would make that happen?" I ask, maintaining my glare.

"Pipit."

"Hell no."

"Hell yeah!" he retorts, his voice getting unusually high. "C'mon—it's a great name!"

"So you're saying…" I begin, "…that your name is so awesomely amazing that everyone bows down to you upon introduction?"

Pipit blinks at me. A second passes. Two, three, then four. "…Yes!"

I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't even name a pet rock after you—no less my own son."

"Wow. Harsh." He frowns. "Then name your daughter after me."

"No."

"You could name her Pippi! Like that old kids' movie, Pippi Longstocking!"

"No."

"On second thought, you should name your son Pippi, too. Because if he's a dude, and if he's named after me, you just know he's gonna have a _long stocking_."

"Shut up, Pipit," Sheik chastises.

A moment passes.

"If I ever have a son," Mikau begins after a bit, "I'm gonna name him Rowen."

"Why Rowen?" Sheik asks.

"'Cause then his full name would be Rowen Kohen."

I smirk. "What will be his middle name? Bowen?"

Mikau shrugs. "I was thinkin' James…. But yeah, Bowen's good."

"Rowen Bowen Kohen," Pipit laughs. "You think Lulu's gonna be okay with that?"

Mikau, looking a bit glum, just shrugs and looks down at the pavement as we walk. "I don't know if Lulu's gonna be the mother, guys."

"Uh oh," groans Sheik. "Something happened, didn't it?"

He shrugs, still avoiding eye contact, then nods admittedly. "She got mad that I went out with you guys to a bar and got… a _tad_ bit drunk."

"Why would you tell her that you went to a bar?" Pipit asks incredulously. "Seriously—you shouldn't tell your girlfriend anything that you do with your buds. Don't you ever read my blog?"

"No," Mikau grumbles, "I don't. And I was _drunk_—she knew I went out."

I squint in confusion,wondering aloud, "Pipit has a blog?"

My three friends conveniently ignore me, continuing to discuss Mikau's situation. "So she's mad at you? So what?" Pipit asks, throwing his arms outward.

"So, she might break up with me."

"For what? For spending quality time with your bros?"

"For making bad decisions with you guys," he responds, meeting his eyes and nodding.

"We don't make bad decisions!"

Mikau snorts. "And you're saying this," he murmurs, "as we're walking down Main Street at eight-thirty on a Monday night."

We chuckle. "Come on," Sheik says, "it's only eight-thirty—we're Castle Towners! This is nothin' for us. The night is still young!"

Mikau squints. "Won't Malon get mad at you for this?"

"Nah," Sheik snickers, "my girl is cool. That's the difference between you and me."

Mikau rolls his eyes, and Pipit grins. "Sheik," the brunette boy begins, "I'm so proud of you, buddy! You've come back from the dead!"

He nods, ruffling Pipit's hair with his fist. "Damn straight. I've decided…. I'm going to spend at least sixty percent of my free time with my bros."

"Because bros before hoes!" Pipit exclaims, punching a fist in the air.

"I say," Sheik chimes, "we all make a pact."

"A pact?" Mikau and I repeat.

"Three times a week, we have a day just to ourselves. Just dudes, no girlfriends." Sheik smirks. "What do you say? All in?"

Pipit grins. "Hell yeah!"

Mikau and I share a concerned look, shrug, then say, "Sure."

"To bros," Pipit says, raising his right hand.

"To bros," we all repeat, mimicking the act.

Pipit's eyes land on me, and he squints in suspicion. "Link," he asks, "what's with the glove?"

Crap. I should've known someone would ask me about it.

I look at Sheik; his eyes are widened, and his mouth is slightly agape. That's right—he knows about the symbol hiding beneath the glove.

But Pipit and Mikau don't, so I'd like to keep it that way.

"Uh… I, er… I burned my hand."

"From what?"

"Something hot."

"_Zelda_ burned you?"

"What?"

"Nothin'." He winks.

I glare at him. "You're back on that now? Really?"

"Yeah, really!" Pipit exclaims. "You ditched me for her yesterday."

"Sorry," I grunt, "but I didn't want to watch a girl fight."

"Well you missed out."

"How?"

"They started making out afterwards."

I roll my eyes, grumbling sarcastically, "Oh, _darn it._"

"Pfft, whatever. Hope you had fun braiding friendship bracelets while I was being a man."

"By yourself, though," I reply with a smirk. Pipit squints at me. "Sounds pretty lonely, doesn't it? Always out by yourself, doing the _'manly thing'_ with no one else?"

Pipit, in the lead, stops walking. I stop too, fixing him with a smirk. "You know," he says, narrowing his eyes at me, "I'd rather choose the lonely path and be a man than be with the majority—shemales like you—in the world."

I look behind me at Sheik and Mikau, whose eyes are wide in an 'oh, shit' manner. Maintaining my smirk, I swivel my head back over to Pipit. "So you think you're better than us."

I hear a faint "Uh-oh" behind me.

As Pipit's lip twitches into a snarl, I continue: "Truth is, you're not better. You're a sad person. But you keep telling others and yourself that you're far superior just to make yourself feel better because y—"

"Ugh!" Pipit loses his cool, rearing his right arm back and throwing a punch straight at me.

In half a second, I whip my gloved hand upward just in time to catch Pipit's fist in my palm. As I lightly grip his knuckles, the energy courses through my fingertips, and I fight to keep it all harnessed. I glare disdainfully into his brown eyes, noticing them dart down to my gloved hand. With dread, I notice that some golden light is leaking through the fabric, faintly illuminating our faces.

I release his hand and jam mine into my pants pocket, feeling the burning sensation die down gradually with each passing second. With contempt, I look at Pipit; his expression is mixed with confusion, anger, and shame.

He meets my eyes. "What… was that…?"

"You really had to throw a punch?!" I shout angrily, ignoring his question.

His eyes fall to the ground, and he shakes his head. "Look—I'm sorry…" he replies. "…But you baited me."

"You baited me to bait you."

He blinks. "What?"

I shake my head. "You are insane."

"Really," he says, eyebrows furrowed. "'Cause I thought I was pathetic, and a sociopath, and lonely, and sad." He shakes his head, tearing his gaze away from me. "…I'm tired of hearing that."

I hear a low whistle. We turn to look at Mikau and Sheik, whose eyes are wide. "That got real—"

"Wait, wait," I say. "You've heard that before?"

He nods curtly.

"From who?"

He squints his eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about it."

"No, come on," I urge. "Tell me."

He heaves a sigh, opens his eyes, and shrugs. "It was… y'know… Karane."

Sheik, Mikau, and I raise our eyebrows. "Really?" Mikau asks. "Well, _that_ was cold-blooded of her!"

I shoot him a glare.

He shrugs.

"Yeah, it really was," Pipit grunts with a nod. "But I don't want to talk about it." He pauses, turning his back. "Especially since my best friends _agree_ with her."

"Now look what you've done, kid," Sheik whispers angrily, swatting my head with his palm.

"He called me a shemale!" I whine.

"No, no, it's cool," Pipit says. "I overreacted…. You just… pushed a button."

I shrug, murmuring quietly, "You pushed my button-pushing button, so…"

Sheik swats my head again, but Pipit didn't seem to hear the comment.

"Today, I went up to talk to her, but she shut me out. She, um… used those words." Pipit turns to face us once again.

Sheik squints. "But why?"

"Because, well," he pauses to take a steadying breath, "at the lounge today, I saw this guy hitting on her, and she… seemed to like it. So when he left, I went up to her. She was friendly and all, until I made a joke like, 'You could totally do better than that guy.' She didn't like that."

"Why not? That's flattering," Mikau comments.

"That's what I thought," Pipit responds with a shrug. "But she said, 'Better? Like, _you_ better?' And, the comic that I am, I made another joke. 'Yeah!' I said. Karane then got even more pissed. She, um, she said a variation of those words."

I'm frozen in place, idly frowning at a crack in the sidewalk, feeling like a complete jackass. Karane is the girl Pipit has liked—I think, at least—for a long time, and for her to say stuff like that, well, is kinda heartless. For _me_ to say stuff like that was kinda heartless. After all, Pipit threw a watermelon at Groose for me. He took a punch for me.

After about ten seconds of sheer awkwardness, I look up at Pipit, step toward him, and throw myself into a bro hug with him before he even knows what's going on. "I'm sorry, man," I say.

Pipit pats my back. "Me too… but this is super gay."

"It kinda is." I step away from him, chuckle, then turn back to face our other friends.

Mikau and Sheik burst out laughing.

* * *

"No, we are _not_ sneaking into another bar!" I protest, throwing my arms outward in frustration.

"Relax, dude," Pipit laughs, "this is a local college club. Everyone looks young, so we don't have to worry about being carded."

"Hey, it's you guys again!" hollers an all-too-familiar voice. Dark saunters over to us with a spring in his step, lugging a burlap sack over his shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Sheik shouts, taking three steps back. "Pipit, you weren't kidding?!"

Dark, Mikau, and I squint.

"No, I wasn't," Pipit chuckles. "See? They're identical!"

"Ooh," Dark, Mikau, and I say harmoniously.

"Whoops," I say, "forgot to tell you."

"Yeah, you did!" Sheik exclaims. "You have a freaking twin brother!"

"He's not my brother."

Sheik blinks. "What? Of course he is!"

Dark shrugs, explaining, "I'm just his doppelganger."

"We've been over this," Pipit grumbles. "Sheik, if you weren't lame and came to the tranny bar with us, then maybe you'd be in the know."

Sheik squints. "Really think about what you just said."

Pipit shrugs. "Point taken."

Mikau nudges Dark. "What's in the sack?"

Dark wiggles his eyebrows. "Ooh, you wanna find out?"

Mikau rolls his eyes. "The _burlap_ sack, dumbass."

Raising a brow questionably, Sheik whispers, "So a _gay_ goth doppelganger?"

"A _bi_ goth doppelganger," I correct, nodding with an amused smirk.

"Gods. I think I'm gonna need a psychiatrist."

"Well," Dark begins, "it's full of necessary survival supplies."

"Like what?"

"Cans of food, water bottles, a portable tent, and all five _Mission: Impossible_ movies."

Pipit gasps. "The fifth one hasn't even come out on DVD!"

With a smirk, Dark lifts his chin. "I know a guy."

"What guy do you know?" I say. "You barely know fifty people."

Dark shrugs, then sticks his thumb in the direction of the college club across the street. "What do you say? Wanna get your drink on?"

"Hell yeah!" Pipit exclaims, dragging us toward the building.

Another bar infiltration..._ I wonder what else is in store for me tonight_, I muse, not even noticing the watchful eyes from behind the five of us.

* * *

**Kind of a sucky way to end the chapter, but I had to cut it off right there. The next scene would be much too long.**

**And yes, I _am_ evil. There's no way Link would get Zellie _that_ easily…**

**Dudes make up a lot easier than girls, huh? That scene was actually based on true events, but altered to fit the characters.**

**Keep an eye out for _Shadow Agent_!**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	9. Businessman

**Heyyy, remember me? 'Course you don't.**

**So if you have checked out my profile recently, then you know why I've been delaying my stories. My phone was recently stolen, and I lost ALL my chapters and notes that help me write. Those notes contained my plot lines, which guide my story progression.**

**So forgive me if a little of this is sub-par. I am doing it mostly off my own memory.**

**All moodiness aside, I've prepared a great new chapter as sort of an apology.**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**To stop a rampaging gangster, Link was forced to reveal his powers in broad daylight, electrifying the outlaw with his Triforce. Fortunately, few people witnessed it; unfortunately, one of them was Zelda. Late that night, Link and Dark met up with a strange man who offered hospitality in his shop and information about the M.O.D.—which led Link to believe that he was actually in that gang. The next night, Link, Sheik, Pipit, Mikau, and Dark opted in for another night out at a bar, unaware of the figure lurking behind them.**_

**Aight, read along**.

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 9: Businessman**

* * *

Monday, October 16

"Well," Pipit huffs, glaring down at the wooden table. "I am pretty disappointed."

Mikau cocks his head at that, asking, "Why?"

When Pipit merely shrugs in a weak attempt at a response, Dark wags his finger at him. "I think I can figure it out," the shadow boy chimes. "No one's hit on you yet."

With a grin, I nod in agreement. "There are no gay bouncers here. Maybe that's why. Sorry, Tidbit."

Annoyed, Pipit scowls darkly at me. "Really? You're not over that stupid name yet?"

"None of us are," Sheik laughs, clapping a hand on his buddy's shoulder.

"You weren't even there."

Sheik shrugs, smirking, taking a swig of his bottle.

"Okay, guys," Mikau announces. "Time for the real reason we all came here tonight." As we all look at him with confusion, he flashes us a wide, mischievous grin. "Shot contest."

He was met with three "No"s and one emphatic "Yeah!"—first being myself, Sheik, and even Dark. The second, well, you can guess who.

Pipit fixes us with baffled, wide-eyed stares for a moment before speaking. "Why not, guys?"

"Because I'm not gonna get drunk," Sheik asserts.

"Because I hate drinking," I explain with a shrug of condolence.

"Because I'm exactly like him," Dark says, nudging my arm.

I fix him with a questionable squint. "I _strongly_ disagree."

Dark laughs. "Well, yeah—behaviorally, we have nothing in common. Two very different souls. But we have the same taste buds."

"Guess so," I admit.

"I don't think that's how it works," Sheik interrupts.

_If only you knew_, I think to myself.

Wisely deciding against telling them that we are, indeed, _exact_ physical copies of one another, we simultaneously shrug in response.

"But seriously, guys," Mikau begins, "shots!"

"No, man, it's a frickin' Monday night," Sheik says. "C'mon, you don't wanna get wasted in front of Lulu _again_, do you?"

"If it means having a good time with my bros, then that's a risk I'm willing to take."

"What happened to you?"

"_You_ guys happened to me!" he shouts, throwing his arms upward with an ecstatic grin. "Sheik, you always talk about how cool your girl is. Pipit, you're never tied down, even though you should probably be tested for STD's. Link, you're just chill about everything." He glances at Dark. "And Dark, uh… that's a nice shirt."

Dark grins. "Means a lot."

"I meant every word." Mikau continues: "I'm tired of being tied down by Lulu. I'm tired of being jealous of your kickass lives, you know?"

We stare at him. For a good while, that's all we do. My friends and I are all silent, and I swear you can physically see the awkwardness. No one's biting on Mikau's bait, so I sigh and decide to do it myself.

"You're jealous of _my_ life?" I ask quietly, shaking my head. "No. See, I'm jealous of _yours._ My life isn't '_kickass_'—in fact, my life is kicking my ass." I cut myself off—I hate getting too heavy around my friends. Blinking twice, I hastily add, "But it sounds like you have some thinking to do… about your girlfriend."

Mikau nods. "I think I do." With a casual shrug, he adds, "Thanks, Link."

"Anytime."

The silence settles in again, until a waitress walks by. "Hey! A round of vodka shots, please!" Mikau hollers, attracting the lady's attention. She smiles, offers us a thumbs-up, then heads off.

"Dude!" Sheik protests.

"You realize we're gonna get carded now, don't you?" I add.

"We told you, Link," Mikau says, "this is a college club. Everyone looks young. We're not gonna get carded."

Sheik scoffs. "Really, 'cause Pipit over here is dressed like a fourteen-year-old girl."

"You're bashing my shorts, now?"

"They're a _tidbit_ too short."

"Stop it. They show off my calves, anyway."

As they continue to banter pointlessly, Dark bumps my arm. "What?" I ask in a hushed voice.

His face steeled, he merely points forward at the entrance to the club, where a cluster of people are standing.

"I don't see any—" I freeze. Pushing past a rotund couple making out next to the coat rack, a familiar man pulls the hood of his black cloak further over his head, shrouding his face in darkness. But the hunched-over posture, yellow-toothed grin, and gnarled gray hands are what make me remember him.

_'Agahnim'_ was the name Dark recalled. The guy that helped create his ID. He offered us hospitality, but didn't inform Dark who he was. He offered information about the local gangs—though I suspect that he partakes in gang activity due to his vast knowledge of the M.O.D.

"It's him," Dark whispers frantically.

With trepidation, I nod quickly. "I know."

"Why is he here?"

"Why else would he be? He's clearly looking for us!"

"B-but he _can't_ be; he's that nice guy who helped make my ID."

"And the guy who refused to tell you who he was when we were in his shop? Doesn't that seem a little suspicious?"

Dark shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so…"

"He's clearly in the M.O.D., and he's either looking for you or me."

"Why me?"

"'Cause you escaped Ganondorf, remember?"

"Shit, that's right." He bumps his forehead with his palm.

"And he is looking for me for obvious reasons," I add. "I'm Ganondorf's next target, apparently."

"But how'd Agahnim follow us here?"

And then it dawns on me. A light bulb appears over my head—not literally, of course—and my eyes widen. "Oh, gods, it all makes sense now..."

Dark squints. "What? What does?"

"Remember how you told Agahnim that you were just born that day? Well, he _believed_ you because he's in the M.O.D. and knew that you escaped Ganondorf after you were summoned. So he gave you an ID card and probably fixed it with a tracking device. He probably waited until you were near their stronghold so he could take you back there, which means that their stronghold is probably right by here… Dark, we have to get captured."

"What?!"

"We do. So I can find Ganon and break his damn skull."

"That—No, Link. Even I am more rational than that."

"Ahem," Sheik interrupts. On the other side of the booth, he, Pipit, and Mikau are all squinting suspiciously at us. "Should we just leave, or…?"

I toss a haphazard "Sorry" at them and glance back up to the strange, cloaked man.

My breath hitches when I notice that he's facing us, his arm holding a cell phone up to his hooded head. I can't see his eyes, but I know our gazes are locked.

"Guys, we need to leave," I assert. "Right now."

"Why?"

"There is a dangerous man in here, and we have to leave right away if we want to live."

The man lowers the cell phone, but still stands ominously in the middle of the bar, facing us.

"Don't know about you guys, but I sure want to live," Mikau, on the end seat, chimes. "I trust you, Link. Let's go, guys."

We hastily exit the booth, and I am tempted to reach into my pack and withdraw my green hood. But right now, I think I'm able to avoid conflict and not reveal my identity as the renegade superhuman.

As the cloaked man stands beside the bar, the five of us shuffle through the crowded room, aiming to blend in. It seems that we do; the man doesn't pursue us.

Outside, we almost simultaneously exhale, relieved. "C'mon," I holler, breaking off in a jog, "run!"

They comply, catching up to me as I continue at an easy pace.

"Not so fast, shadow boy!"

"_Oof_!"

Pipit, Mikau, Sheik, and I whirl around to see Dark pinned to the ground by a massive man in all leather. I recognize him as Onox, the guy who I knocked out with a shovel.

"His cronies are not going anywhere, either," asserts a surprisingly high-pitched voice behind us.

We spin around again to see a very tall and skinny man, sporting a long black robe with who-knows-what being hidden underneath it. His beady yellow eyes peer down at us, and his sunken-in face is devoid of emotion. The man of Twili descent standing awkwardly before us clearly lacks the intimidation factor.

Making things even worse, Sheik laughs.

I hit him in the chest. He quiets down.

"To what is your humor directed toward, petty human?"

Sheik's maroon eyes narrow angrily. "I'm a Sheikah, dumb shit," he grumbles.

The Twili man seethes in gradually-growing anger, his tiny mouth twitching into a snarl. He glances up at Onox.

We turn our heads to see Dark being hoisted up like a rag doll by one of the man's jacked arms. "This 'ere is property of Dragmire," he announces with a yellow grin, jostling Dark's feeble body forcefully.

"Who is this _Fag_mire?" Sheik asks, baring his teeth at the imposing man.

Onox narrows his eyes. "You do not insult our master, little Sheikah, or you will feel the wrath of the Men of Demise!"

My friends' eyes widen, and they turn their heads toward me. "Link," Sheik begins, putting a hand on my shoulder, "they killed your uncle, didn't they?"

I don't respond; my eyes are locked with Onox's. He sneers, lifting his chin sharply. "Your uncle was killed by us, eh? Must've been under Cia's wing."

With fury boiling in my veins, I bluntly spit out, "He was innocent."

Onox chuckles, shaking his head with disdain. "What a pathetic waste of a bullet, then. It's too bad you didn't learn your lesson, since you hang 'round this pile o' trouble." He gestures toward Dark, then looks back up at me. "Nothin' can stop the M.O.D."

"Not even a shovel to the face?"

"A shovel to the—?" He freezes, amber eyes growing wide. Baffled, he blinks several times before uttering simply, "_You_."

With a slow nod, I glare my blue eyes at him. "Me."

Agahnim, cloak removed, soon strides over to the ambush, his bald head reflecting the dim moonlight. "Ahaha! Onox, Zant," he croaks, "you've got him."

"Indeed." Onox nods shortly. "It's a good thing he gave up so easily. We didn't even bring our guns."

"You didn't?"

Acquiring the new information, I react instantly: I spin and drive the toe of my shoe into Zant's crotch, who wails in pain and collapses to the ground. To Dark's aid, I dash toward Onox as he turns his head, just in time for my gloved fist to punch him square in the face. He relinquishes his hold on Dark, rocketing backward a few feet and landing on his back with a colossal thud.

I glance behind me to see my friends staring in awe as the Twili gangster behind them attempts to get back up. "Don't just stand there," I yell, "beat him up!"

Leaving them to keep Zant grounded, I turn my attention toward Agahnim. I run at him, fist poised, leaping into form for a superman punch.

With astounding agility, the seemingly-elderly man ducks his head and spins out of my reach, throwing a backward elbow at my skull as I soar past him. His aged, rock-hard bone connects with the back of my head with a devastating crack. My vision blurs instantly, and I collapse face-first onto the pavement, earning gravel scrapes to the face.

I lie there for what seems like an eternity, the pain screaming in my ears, barely holding onto consciousness. Half-aware, I feel my body being roughly spun around as the sirens blare through the night. The police are coming; Dark and I will be safe for tonight.

I blink several times before focusing in on the wrinkled face sneering down at me. "Do you have _any idea_…" he whispers forcefully, "…who you really are?"

Head swimming, I find tree strength to glare my eyes up at him. In a dangerous tone, I spit, "_I am Hero._"

"I've known who you are for a _long_ time, greeny. What _really_ pisses me off about you, though, is that you're _always_ lucky enough to get saved before you're hurt." A wide, sadistic grin spreads out across his wrinkled face. "But not tonight. I'm gonna show you more of what you'll get when we capture you and your damned shadow." He grips my dirty blonde hair with a white-knuckled fist, yanking my head upward so he can whisper in my ear: "_Pain_."

He drops my head, winds back, and slams his fist into my face. Once out of fury, twice for good measure, thrice for amusement.

My vision goes black.

* * *

Tuesday, October 17

I wake up in a dumpster.

The first thing I notice: the smell. Rancid—like a combination of a dead animal, spoiled milk, and some meatloaf left out in the desert sun. The second thing: the taste. Still in a stupor, I groggily pull something weird out of my mouth and peer at it. That leads me to the third thing: the sights.

I blink several times, holding the weird item I've been nursing all night in front of my face. It's a brown banana peel.

"Ugh," I grumble, scrunching my face up in disgust, tossing the peel behind me.

"'Ey!" grunts a voice.

I turn around as best as I can, trying with difficulty to maneuver through heavy bags of waste, and my eyes land on the most peculiar thing of the morning—Dark, with the old banana peel sitting on his black hair.

And he's completely nude.

"Dude!" I shout, covering my eyes with my hands as he stares at me with confusion. "Why are you _naked_?"

He carefully removes the peel from his shaggy locks, dropping it next to him. "I sleep like this," he responds casually.

"Fully nude?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

"Uh, _no_?"

"Oh," he responds, blinking a few times. "Odd."

"_I'm_ odd?"

"I don't see what the big deal is, Link." He pauses, shrugs, then points downtown. "I guess I _do_ see the _big deal_, actually."

"Well, you're a physical copy of me."

"Thank you for this, then." He grins. "So if we're the same guy physically, why do you have a problem with looking?"

"Because it's gay."

"Gay to look at yourself? Some guys do a _lot_ more than just look at themselves, you know—"

"Okay, fine," I respond, removing my hands. But I still don't look… even if he's really me down there.

Dark notices and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't press the matter.

"Where are your clothes, Dark?" I ask him.

"My—? Oh, right," he says with a half grin and a nod. "I rented them to a homeless guy yesterday so we could crash in his dumpster for the night. He should be back sometime soon."

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, restraining myself from lunging out and attacking him. "Why did you want to _sleep_ in a freakin' _dumpster,_ Dark?!"

Dark blinks, taken aback. "Easy, man, _easy._ You were still unconscious for awhile after the fight, and well, we were pretty far from the academy you live in. So I tried to find a hotel but I don't have any money, and I thought this place would be more comfortable."

I stare at him. "…A dumpster."

"…Yes."

"You are seriously too stupid to insult."

He nods. "Thank you."

Piqued, I heave a sigh and shake my head. "And you know it's a Tuesday morning, right? I have school today." I take out my phone and check the time. "Dammit, it's 10:30."

"I'm sure if you explain everything to your teacher, everything will be understood."

"Think about how that conversation would go, Dark," I grumble. "'Sorry, I was out drinking last night, got into a fight with some gang members, then woke up next to a naked guy in a hobo's dumpster in an alley. I came here as quick as I could.'" With a scoff, I glare at him. "I doubt my teachers will let me off the hook for that."

"Your teachers sound like huge bummers."

As I stand there, submerged in piles of trash, something pops into my head—something that I definitely should have thought of earlier. With haste, I frantically ask, "Dark, where are the others?!"

"The others?"

"My friends!"

"Um… Michael, Zeke, and Tidbit, right?"

I squint. "Mikau, Sheik, and—well, you got the last one right."

"They took a cab back to the academy yesterday after you clocked out," he states, much to my relief.

"Good. I thought you would've lost them somewhere." Eased, I sigh lightly. "Now I need to head back. I look like shit."

"And smell like it." He scrunches his nose in disgust.

"We're both in a dumpster. You do too." I pause, then cock my head questionably at him. "You know you're probably not gonna get those clothes back, right?"

With a shrug, he responds, "Yeah, probably not. I'll go to the tailor across the street, have 'em whip up a cool outfit for me."

"You're gonna go in there naked?" I raise my eyebrows. "Most businesses have a 'No Clothes, No Service' policy, you know."

"Not if you're me," he replies with a charming wink, pointing downtown again. "I've got a secret weapon."

"So do I. But I don't use it."

"Your loss. This thing works magic."

* * *

"So. Care to explain your tardiness?"

I widen my eyes at my second period teacher in false surprise. "I can't believe you just said that. That word is very offensive." A harmonious snicker rings out from the class.

I quickly shoot Sheik a look in the front row, wordlessly communicating with him that I'm okay. He looks worried—whether it's about my wellbeing or my current situation, I don't know.

Confused, Rauru folds his arms over his chest and squints his eyes. "What word?"

I guess I'd rather deal with the consequences of being late than those of accusing a teacher of using offensive language. Accepting that, I shrug and say, "Never mind. Thought you said something else. Sorry I'm late."

Rauru glares authoritatively at me. "Now, Link. Because you are new, you likely do not know that I hold my students to higher standards than the rest of the ignorant, carefree staff."

"Did you just insult the staff?" I murmur.

Either ignoring me or not hearing (likely the latter due to his age), he continues. "I expect my students to be on time to class. Not—" He glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time. "—forty-five minutes late."

I discreetly check my cell phone in my pocket. It's 11:41. Second period started at 10:56.

I nod at him. "So if classes are forty-six minutes long, that means—"

_RIIIIIIING!_

The dramatic blare of the school bell interrupts me, and I toss Mr. Lux a sheepish grin before darting off toward the door. I hate being put on the spot like that, so I'm eager to leave.

The rest of the class follows suit, but the old crank stops everyone. "Hold it, hold it!"

Everyone ceases their gathering of supplies to look his way, my reluctant self included.

"Due to today's lack of attention—and _attendance_—there will be a quiz on chapter nine tomorrow." As the class lets out an audible groan of protest, Rauru glances my way and announces, "You may thank Mr. Gaiden for reminding me to reinforce your good learning habits."

_Oh, that old coot…_

I glare at him before spinning on my heel and marching out the door.

Disgruntled, I walk down the hall until Mikau, Sheik, and Mido catch up with me. "Man, look what you did!" Mikau whines. "This is your fault."

"Come on," Sheik says, shaking his head in my defense. "You were sound asleep. There's drool all over the desk. _You_ were part of the problem, too."

"Rauru said I could thank Mr. Gaiden, so—"

"Shut up, Mikau," I grumble. "I've had one long-ass morning, and you're really not helping."

"Dang," Mido comments. "Chill, bro."

I shoot him a glare to show that I'm not in the mood.

The redhead clears his throat. "Well, that's my cue. Seeya." He walks ahead, then ducks into his next classroom.

"Sorry," I say with a light shrug. "I was actually kind of trying to get rid of Mido, so we could talk. There's no real use in having to explain to him what we were doing."

"Sure," they respond.

"I'm still foggy on what happened after I blacked out, but I do know that Dark sold his clothes to a bum so we could crash in his dumpster for the night. I woke up in it a little over an hour ago." They suppress their snickers at the sheer ridiculousness of my explanation, but I interrupt them by saying, "What I want to know is why you guys didn't take me into the cab with you."

"Well, Dark said he wanted to make sure for himself that you would wake up," Sheik replies, looking a little guilty. "Pipit was kinda rattled from the whole incident, so we decided to take him back and trust Dark to watch out for you." He pauses, then adds, "Sorry."

I flick my eyes toward either of them, shrug, and say, "I guess it's alright. I mean, I'm alright."

Sheik squints, cocking his head. "…Are you, though?"

"You took a pretty big hit," Mikau adds.

"I heal fast."

After discreetly sharing a look with one another, Sheik and Mikau nod. "Okay," the blonde says, "I'm gonna head to my next class now. See you guys at P.E." Sheik grins, then leaves me with Mikau.

"So," the dark-haired dude begins, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "All things aside, what's going on with you and Zel?"

Crap! I forgot about Zelda! I haven't talked to her since yesterday, when she found out about my Triforce… Damn, this is bad; I have next period with her. What if she freaks out and gives away my secret?

Then… I'd be arrested. Crap. Another thing I forgot about. I'm wanted.

"Honestly, not as much as people are saying or hoping," I respond, keeping my gaze locked with the floor.

He raises his eyebrows teasingly. "How much are _you_ hoping?"

I laugh lightly. "…Good question."

"If it's so good, answer it," he urges.

"I'm only gonna say," I begin, "that it's more now than what I thought before."

With a shake of the head, Mikau grins widely. "Damn, kid, you are as vague as vague can be."

* * *

Today was odd.

For one thing, Zelda was absent. So was Lulu, but I'm beginning to think that they were each gone for different reasons.

Today actually felt… kind of sucky. Not just because of the "rough encouragement" of my less-than-favorite teachers (as Mr. Harkinian chooses to describe their behavior). Nah, I'm used to that. I get it every day. Maybe it's the head injuries talking, but I think my day sucked cuccos because I didn't get to see Zelda.

I really need to talk to her about yesterday.

But right now, I'm focusing on studying for that history quiz tomorrow, for which I am apparently at fault. So, Sheik and I sit in our back booth in the lounge, buried in piles of notes as we sift through the thirty-seven-page chapter.

Most of those notes—all of them, actually—belong to Sheik. Meanwhile, my sheet of paper is blank; I hold the last unbroken pencil in my possession very lightly, praying that my inhuman strength won't snap it. I hate being that nerd in class who types all his assignments without the teacher asking him to. And I hate having to explain to Sheik why our keyboard's broken… _three times._

I squint my eyes shut, then bring the pencil down as lightly as possible, expecting the taunting noise of the cracking wood… But I don't hear it.

With trepidation, I slowly peek with one eye, peering down at the writing utensil. It's still whole, and there's a faint gray line on my paper.

"Uh… Link?"

My eyes shoot up to meet Sheik's.

"You okay?"

I nod. "Yes."

"You were making a face."

"What kind of face?"

"A constipated face."

I blink. "Yeah, uh… my head still hurts from last night." With my forefinger I lightly tap on my temple.

"Right."

With that, we awkwardly shift back to studying. Sheik continues to read through the textbook, while I try to mask my joy after discovering that my strength has finally been toned down and that I can finally use a pencil.

"Hey, guys," says someone.

In sync, Sheik and I briefly look up to see Karane, then return to our work. "Hi, Karane."

"What're you doing?" she asks, sliding into the seat next to Sheik.

"Writing," I say.

"Reading," Sheik says.

She giggles. "Calm down, party animals."

"So Karane…" I begin as I continue jotting down notes, "…Where was Zelda today?"

Karane's lips perk up into a sly smirk. "Why the sudden interest?"

I drop the pencil. "Things happened lately, and I want to know if this has to do with me."

She bites her lip in thought. "Well… she didn't say much. I'm pretty sure she didn't mention you."

"Well what did she say?"

"She doesn't feel well," Karane says. "I think she has a cold."

With an exaggerated huff, Sheik shuts his textbook. "Do you two mind? I'm trying to study for a quiz tomorrow, thanks to you, Link."

Karane giggles, pushing the blonde lad lightly on the shoulder. "Sorry." She turns to me. "It's your fault?"

"I may have been a little late to class."

"How late?"

"…Forty-five minutes." I shrug.

A grin spreads across her face. "So you showed up for a minute of history class?"

I nod, and she giggles somewhat cutely in response.

Something's off about this. Not to flatter myself or anything, but she seems to be _flirting_ with me. Believe me, Karane is attractive and all, but I can't keep this going if Pipit has even the slightest bit of feelings for her. Although, Karane _was_ pretty mean to him.

I haphazardly shove my notes and school crap into my pack, then ask Karane, "You room with Zelda, right? Do you mind if I go talk to her?"

Her smile falters subtly, but she nods. "I'll be out for awhile, so go ahead. Room 4F."

"Thanks." I toss a grin to the two of them, then get up to leave. "Sheik, I'll see you at the dorm."

He looks up from his textbook. "I'm not entirely sure that's true." With a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows, he grins at me.

Gods, he's been hanging out with Pipit too long.

* * *

As I exit the elevator and step into the fourth floor of the girls' dorm, the first thing I hear is screaming.

"I am so damn_ tired of you_!" shouts a familiar male voice.

_Mikau?_

"If you're so tired of me, then go back to the _bar_ and get _hammered_ again, you son of a bitch!"

_Lulu?_

Oh, crap, this is bad.

"What is the big deal with that?! You always demand that I spend all my time with you and the band! What if I want to spend time with my _friends_ once in a while?!"

"I don't care about that—!"

"Bullshit!"

"—I hate when you make these stupid decisions! You're not the guy I fell in love with, Mikau! You've changed!"

"And you haven't?"

I slowly creep out the elevator and hide next to a vending machine, curiously peeking my head around the corner to spy.

"You know what, that's it!" Lulu yells, clenching her fists. "I'm tired of fighting with you."

"Me too."

"Don't talk to me. Don't call me. And about Morpha, I'm done." As tears well up in her eyes, she shakes her head. "_We're_ done."

"Good."

And she leaves, shutting the door of her room behind her. Mikau's face falls, and he stares down at the floor with glazed eyes. Then he sighs, turns on his heel, and walks away.

Thinking I should give him some space, I press my back up against the wall as he walks past, ignorant to my presence. He descends the stairs instead of taking the elevator, avoiding the wait and instead wanting to leave the place as soon as possible.

With a disheartened huff, I come out from my hiding spot and return to the hall, only to see every door in the hall opened with two girls each curiously peeking out. Their lingering gazes fall on me.

I blink awkwardly, standing there for a moment, then hastily continue down my path. The doors shut almost simultaneously as I reach 4F, one of the few doors unopened after the shouting match.

I take a moment to gather myself, then knock quietly on Zelda's door.

"It's unlocked," she hollers from inside.

I open the door with a nervous smile on my face, only to have it fall immediately upon seeing her.

"Oh, gods!" she shouts, yanking her bed covers up over her bra. "I thought you were Lulu!"

Blinking a few times in shock (or awe), I stammer meekly, "I—uh… sorry."

I can't help but stare at her. She's adorable. Her cheeks burn pink and she glares at me, reaching down to grab her shirt on the floor.

I clear my throat. "Um… can I still come in?"

Zelda combs her golden hair back with her fingers as she ponders. "…Sure, but just give me a sec."

"Okay." I close the door, and wait.

_Wow_, I muse with a small smirk.

After a bit, she calls, "'Kay, you can come in."

I comply, shutting the door softly behind me. She's now properly clothed, wearing a gray tee with a Red Hot Chili Peppers logo on it.

"Hey, I love the Chili Peppers," I comment.

She scoffs. "So that's the first thing you look at? My chest?"

I chuckle. "In my defense, Zelda…"

She folds her arms and raises her eyebrows at me, a miniscule twinge of a smile on her face.

"…I am a seventeen-year-old boy." I shrug helplessly.

Her smile widens. "Yeah, but you're not like most boys."

"Thanks." I pause, then squint. "Wait, do you mean like, 'my insane powers' kind of different, or my personality?"

With a shrug, she says, "Both, I guess, but I meant your personality."

"Oh. Thanks." My grin returns. Zelda nods, her gaze falling to her lap.

A silence settles between us.

"So you're not feeling well?"

"I've been better," Zelda replies. "I think I'm getting a fever. You probably won't want to be around me."

"If you think that, then you don't know me too well."

Zelda blushes again, smiling at the wall, unable to meet my gaze. She laughs lightly, asking, "Are you flirting with me?"

I smile. "Just being honest. I'm an open book."

She squints skeptically. "Are you?"

With a nod, I say, "To you, at least. Remember this?" I remove my overpriced leather glove to reveal the Triforce emblem, showing it to her.

Her smile falters. "I'd like not to remember that."

"You're pretty shaken up?"

She nods mutely.

I sigh, daringly taking a seat on the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," I say, sighing quietly.

"It's just… That guy… He could've killed people, Link…" Shaking her head, she looks down. "And he got away."

"And that's my fault. I should have incapacitated him."

"But you thought you did. And I was distracting you—" She stops, then meets my eyes. "Link, it's my fault! You would've seen him if I wasn't freaking out!"

"No it isn't, Zelda."

"Yes it is!" she urges, a tear streaming down her cheek. "There's a killer on the streets and it's all because—"

"Stop it," I tell her. "There isn't '_a_' killer. There are _dozens_." I make my way toward the front of the bed and sit next to her, lifting my legs up to rest next to hers. She tenses for a brief moment, but soon she relaxes, her arm touching mine. "And," I add, "I'm gonna stop them."

Zelda looks at me with wet eyes, whispering, "Why?"

I take a deep breath, exhale, then spill, without stopping to see her reactions. "The name of my uncle's killer is Ganondorf Dragmire. He is the leader of a gang called the M.O.D. Most nights when I disappear, I'm out in the streets wearing a green hat, taking down M.O.D. members and running from the police. Either that, or I'm at the police station with my detective, Shad, to solve the murder. My goal is to bring Ganondorf to justice, whether that results in his imprisonment or his death."

As the silence settles back between us, I steal a glance at her. Her eyes are wide and unblinking, and yet all she says is, "Sounds like you've been practicing that speech."

I find myself chuckling. "Well, yeah. I have been."

"You're the guy on the news who was wearing the Hyrule Academy sweatshirt?"

I nod shamefully. "Yeah."

A pretty, humored smile spreads across her face. "Link, that was really stupid."

With a laugh, I nod. "It was." Sighing, I drop my gaze to the floor. "You know… I was really nervous about explaining things to you."

"…Why?"

I shrug. "I kinda thought you would take it badly, and you'd never want to talk to me again." Offering her a sheepish grin, I boldly add, "...And that would really suck."

The next thing that happens completely shocks me: Zelda takes the covers that are draped over her and pulls them over me, then rests her head on my shoulder.

Am I dreaming, or is today just that amazing? Well… aside from Mikau's breakup. Sorry, buddy.

My heart yearns for me to do something in return, to show her my affection, so I settle for wrapping my arm around her, pulling her closer. I say softly, "Zel… I'm really sorry."

"For what?"

"For being a vengeful freak."

"Would I let a vengeful freak be in my bed with me?"

"If you're feeling really lonely, maybe."

She giggles, and we're quiet for a bit. "…Is this weird?"

"Should it be?"

"…Yes?"

"How so?"

Zelda nestles further into the crook of my neck and shoulder. "…I dunno, it's hard to explain."

"Well, if it helps, I like it."

She sighs contentedly. "Me too."

Damn, what was in that Powerade I had earlier today? I'm saying all this ballsy stuff. And it's working. Now, I guess, it's time for something else to say… something I haven't even let myself think before.

"…Zelda?"

"Yeah?"

Here goes…

I take a deep breath—Wait. I hear something. Oh, no. Gods, not now! Of all the possible times, why now?

I hear sirens. Lots and lots of sirens.

Something big is going on.

I turn my head to gaze out Zelda's open window, toward the city. My hand tingles.

"…Link?" Zelda says.

I don't hear her. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins now; my body yearns to take action. And I do.

I stand up abruptly, tossing a reluctant goodbye over my shoulder, and stand in front of the window, ready to leap out.

"Link, what are you doing?" Zelda asks worriedly, sitting back up in bed.

"The cops," I say. "They're in trouble."

"How do you know?"

"Ever heard this many sirens at once? They called for backup, and they clearly need it." I pick up my pack that I dropped on Zelda's floor, unzip it, and take out my floppy green cap. "So that's what they'll get."

With fear in her ocean-blue eyes, she looks up at me, stressing, "That's not your job, Link."

I sigh, giving her one last wistful glance. "Maybe it is."

And I jump.

* * *

The night air of autumn nips at my cheeks as I travel briskly down the sidewalk of a traffic-jammed street. I can sense multiple eyes following me; perhaps the footage of my failed arrest has been spread more than I thought.

Drivers pointlessly honk at the bumpers in front of them, patience waning. As I continue, the cars seem to be more compacted together, less room between them all—and I begin to see why. Faraway flashes of red and blue indicate that the police have blocked off the road ahead, which is likely due to the commotion I heard earlier.

"Nice night, ain't it?"

I dart my head toward the source of Dark's voice. He sits—clothed this time—on a trash can in the alley to my right.

"Not exactly," I grumble. "What's going on with the cops?" Gesturing toward the flashing lights, I fix him with a questionable squint.

"It's gone now. A fight broke out between the cops and a few thugs," he responds nonchalantly, shrugging it off and slurping audibly on the straw of a juice pouch.

"Anyone you recognize?"

"Um… Jackson was there."

"_Sakon_?"

He nods. "You know what I mean. I'm not good with names."

"Anyone else?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

Biting a lip, he hops down from the garbage can. "There were two others. One was a tall chick, kinda hot actually. The other was male, really ripped, and he carried a frickin' flamethrower."

Blinking a few times, I cock my head, confused. "I've never seen them before."

"Neither have I. When I was summoned, I saw everyone in the M.O.D., but those two weren't there."

"Maybe they're a part of their rival gang," I muse, recalling Shad's information regarding Ghirahim and Vaati's separate gangs.

"Maybe," he agrees quietly. "What were they called again?"

"I don't remember."

"Mm." Dark shrugs. "Ah, well. Let's just get to the main event, you an' me. Shall we, Link? Or should I say… Hero?"

As I stand there in confusion, Dark takes the lid off the trash can, withdrawing the large burlap sack he now carries everywhere. He reaches in, taking out a bundle of clothes and tosses it my way.

I catch it, inspecting the outfit he brought me. The top is a dark forest green, like the needles of an evergreen tree, and leather that seems a bit tight for my liking. The shoulders, pectorals, and abdomen are all covered in plates of thicker, grayish-green protective hide.

Meanwhile, the bottom is quite the same; deep green, a little tight, with protective hide that dangles from the waist to the thighs. More tough plates cover the shins and kneecaps.

"Dark, these are—" I freeze when I look up at my double, finally noticing that he has on the exact same outfit, but with shades of black and gray.

"Spectacular? I agree." He grins wickedly. "I told you your thing works magic."

I snort, resorting to gazing back down in awe at the outfit in my arms.

"Oh, and I got some more stuff for you," he adds excitedly, digging back into the burlap sack. "Da-da-da-_daaaaa_!"

I peer at the items he pulled out, and I smirk. A pair of matching grayish-green boots— along with a black, masquerade-like mask that covers only the eyes and bridge of the nose—sit on what appears to be a cape, the same color as the boots and protective plates.

"You got a cape!" Dark cheers.

I reach down to pick up the mask and boots—because the cap won't always shield my identity, and I certainly can't go around doing justice in a flimsy pair of Vans—but I leave the cape.

He glares at me. "Dude."

"What?" I ask in false innocence, smirking subtly.

"Do you know what I had to do to get this cape for you, Link?" Dark asks, appearing hurt. "I had to do a huge dude."

"I bet you liked it."

"No. I _loved_ it. But that's not the point." Dark shakes his head, pointing down at the cape. "You're wearing that cape."

I blink at him, scoffing, "I'm not gonna wear a cape."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not wearing a cape."

"You're wearing a cape."

"I'm not wearing a cape."

"You're wearing a cape!" he shouts, picking it up and tossing it at me.

I catch it, and I shrug dejectedly. "Fine, I'll wear the cape."

With a grin, Dark says, "Good. Now put 'em on."

I motion toward the end of the alley, where all the cars can be seen. "But all the people will see me."

"Are you nine? Walk back farther and drop your drawers."

One outfit change later, I stuff all my previous clothes into my pack, throwing it on over my cape.

"Doesn't that thing bother you?" Dark asks about it when I'm all suited up.

"Not when you're as strong as I am," I reply cunningly.

"Ah. Well, that isn't entirely you." He offers me a pompous smirk, motioning toward my hand.

I lightly chuckle. "Always raining on my parade, aren't you?"

Looking skyward, I see the bright moon, prominent among the few winks of starlight. Ominous clouds and fog gradually begin to consume the comforting stars, and I shiver in trepidation.

"Well, I should head off," Dark announces, slinging his burlap sack over his shoulder.

"What?" Disappointed, I squint my eyes at him. "You're not gonna help me find those thugs?"

"Well, I would, but I met a twelve."

Confused, my eyebrows perk up.

"On a scale of one to ten, she's a twelve," Dark explains.

"Ah," I say quietly. Dark winks. "Well I guess I'll go find 'em by myself."

"You sure?"

I glare at him. "Well my sidekick is too busy banging the first hot girl he sees, so yeah. I'm sure."

"You're the sidekick." With that, he spins on his heel, starting off torward the end of the alley. "Be careful," he calls, stopping to look back over his shoulder. "Don't get killed."

"You be careful too. Don't knock her up."

Dark offers me a mock-salute before turning and leaving me alone in the alley.

As I stand there, feeling utterly ridiculous with my mask, hat, and cape, I can't help but look back up at the sky. The three lone stars I'm able to spot put me at ease, and I sigh peacefully.

Until the sound of footsteps behind me makes me leap out of my skin.

I whirl around, neck hairs stranding up, and see a figure. A rather curvy figure, but hidden in the shadows of the depths of the alley.

A smooth voice of a woman coos, "You know, I used to _dream_ that the notorious Hero would walk onto my turf." She slowly steps forward, overstepping to either direction with both legs, bringing attention to her hips. "That way I could hold him for ransom against my enemy who_ so dearly_ desires him…"

The dim, flickering yellow light of a street lamp gradually reveals her features. A revealing, jet-black dress shows off her smooth, milky-brown skin. The woman shoves her chest out seductively as she gets closer, making me slightly uncomfortable with her forwardness.

Her roundish face is topped with pearl-white hair cropped off above the shoulders, bejeweled along the crease of her hair with rubies. Her eyes, however, are the part that troubles me the most: her irises are a deep purple, and her pupils a burning red. Two tatoos along the cheekbones highlight her eyes' fierceness.

I could almost consider her hot, or sexy, or something, but in a sketchy, wicked sort of way.

"But given the fact that he gave me _such_ a _nice_ strip show, I think I'll cut him a deal." A wicked smile spreads across her face.

I shake my head. "I'm not striking any kind of a deal with a hooker."

"Hooker?!" she yells. "Never!"

I motion toward her practically-unconcealed breasts, eyebrows raised, eyes glazed in skepticism. "Really."

She scoffs, stepping closer, a smirk twitching onto her red lips. "You wish I would sell myself to you. I am very desirable."

I shrug nonchalantly. "I'm poor, so."

Soon she's less than an arm's length away from me, but I'm not too concerned; she doesn't seem like much of a threat. "Really. Hm. How honorable."

"What do you want, lady?" I demand abruptly, getting sick of her advancements.

She smiles. "Like I said, I want to make you a deal."

"What deal?"

"Here is what you will do. You and I will form an alliance." She touches the pads of her fingers together, long black nails clicking against one another. "You will bring me every member of the M.O.D.—aside from their leader, obviously—dead or alive."

Confused, I blink at her. "Why?" I ask. "Who are you?"

"My name is Cia…"

_Cia._ The name that Onox said.

"…And I am the leader of the Young United Guardians of Anarchy."

"Young United…" Gaze falling, I trail off. Then, I dart my eyes back up to meet hers. "Y.U.G.A."

"Correct."

"_Vaati's_ gang."

"Ooh, you know him?"

I stammer, "Um… He… was my first victim."

"Victim?" Cia scoffs, frowning, placing a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised. "Please, don't even _try_ to sound like us. You don't victimize anybody."

"Not _yet,_ I haven't."

"Ah. So that brings me to _your_ benefits." Her smile returns. "If you meet my demands… I will give you Dragmire."

A spark ignites within my chest, an ounce of hatred and desire for such an occurrence. She would _"give"_ me Dragmire, huh? As if I can't get to him on my own; I've been making decent progress. As I open my mouth to explain this, she beats me to it.

"Do not think, Hero, that you can do this without my services." She narrows her eyes.

"Why couldn't I?"

"Because your shadow doesn't offer a _fraction_ of the protection and resources that I can. My colleagues, my connections… they will save your life." Cia nods affirmatively, and I actually take that as a good point. "And," she adds, raising a finger in the air, "believe me when I say you _really_ don't want _us_ as your enemies."

I laugh mockingly. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a guarantee."

"Well what's in it for you, huh?" I inquire. "What's the catch?"

"I get to rule the streets of Castle Town. It's simple," she replies, placing her hand on my cheek, alarmingly close to the mask that obscures my identity.

"Let me lay down some ground rules, then, lady. One—" I place my hands on her shoulders and push her away lightly, finally distancing ourselves. "—_you get the hell away from me_."

As she stumbles, taken aback, she sends me a death glare.

"Two, your _'colleagues'_ don't interfere with what I do. If they see me, they don't talk to me. They stay the hell away."

"Is that all?"

I shake my head. "Three, I don't bring the M.O.D. to _you_ for your sick bastards to torture. I bring them to the police, keep 'em off the streets for good. Four, when we get to Ganondorf, _I'm_ the one who kills him."

"There is no way I can—"

"Don't think that you can rule the streets without my services," I interrupt, a sly smirk twitching onto my lips. "And you do not want _me_ as an enemy."

I keep rule number five in my head. The rule that when this is all over, I'm coming after her gang.

I'm going to free the streets.

"Fine," she spits, reaching her right hand out for a shake.

I take it, squeezing the small hand firmly just to agitate her further. "Pleasure doing business with you, Cia."

Before I know it, she retracts her hand, taking my leather glove with it. The bright, golden light spills out into the blackness of the alley, and she stares down at my hand in realization. "_Ahh_," she says, "_this_ is why Dragmire so dearly desires you."

I snatch the glove back and shove it on, furiously glaring at her. "Goodbye." Spinning around on my heel, I walk away from the gang lord.

"_Pleasure_ doing business with you, Hero!" she calls.

* * *

When I'm back inside Zelda's room, she's sound asleep, curled up and lying on her side. I almost don't want to wake her, thinking I should instead go back to my dorm; but if someone catches me, I'm roasted. So I heave a sigh, remove the cap and mask so she knows I'm not some serial killer, and tap her lightly on the shoulder. "Zelda," I say softly.

She comes to, rolling slowly to face me. "Link?"

I nod with a smile; she looks adorable when she's tired.

"How'd you get in here? I thought I locked the door…"

Motioning toward the open window, I shrug and say, "I climbed."

Zelda squints. "It's four stories."

"It's past curfew. I couldn't get caught this way."

Her mouth forms a small _O_-shape as she sits up in her bed.

"Um, this might be weird for me to ask…" Rubbing the back of my neck, I awkwardly avert my eyes. "But it's pretty late, and I've sort of… had a troublesome first month here with the staff…" I finally meet her gaze, finding relief in her amused expression. "Do you think I can stay here tonight…?"

She smiles, giggling subtly. "Sure, I don't mind. As long as you don't hog the covers."

I squint. "We… um… We're sharing?"

Her cheeks flush pink as she realizes her mistake. "Oh, um… y-you can take Karane's bed," she says quietly, "if you want."

"Can I use your bathroom?" I ask, changing the subject. "I need to change out of this." I motion toward the protective, battle-proficient outfit.

"Is that your superhero costume?"

"I prefer the term '_suit_', not '_costume_'."

Zelda laughs lightly, the traces of her embarrassment now gone. "Yeah, go ahead."

"Thanks."

I change back into my clothes from earlier today—khakis and a gray long-sleeved shirt (uncomfortable sleepwear, _ugh_)—and return to Zelda.

"You know," she says when I walk back in, "I'm still mad at you for barging in on me while I was half-naked."

"Well I knocked!"

"Yeah well you should've said who it was! Lulu and Mikau just broke up so I thought she'd come crying to me!"

"You should've asked, 'Who is it?' like everyone does."

"Whatever. You owe me," she grumbles, fake-pouting, folding her arms. _Gods,_ that's adorable.

"What, do you wanna see me half-naked? Just flash you right here and now?" I tease, gripping the hem of my shirt in preparation.

She laughs. "No, come on, Link."

I laugh too, then dramatically plop face-down next to her on the bed.

With a giggle, she says, "I thought you were staying in Karane's bed."

I lift my head up to meet her bright blue eyes, smiling. "I decided I'd rather give some company to my sick friend."

"If anyone's sick, it's you. You're a pervert, remember?"

"Or maybe you're a hooker, just shoving your chest out for all guys to see."

"Wow," she comments, smile growing as she flicks me in the head. "Mean."

I shuffle over so I sit beside her, placing my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, resuming where we had left off. Contented, I rub the fabric of her red shirt sleeve with my fingers.

"Did you help the cops?"

I shake my head. "I didn't get there in time. But it didn't get out of line; just a fight between some thugs that broke out."

"Mm." Zelda sighs and leans her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes. "Thanks for staying with me tonight."

"No problem, Zel," I reply.

"You're a good friend, Link."

"You too."

I pull the bed covers over the both of us, and we both lie down underneath them. I look over at her, slowly drifting off to sleep, and sigh wistfully. If only Zelda knew how I really think of her.

* * *

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**


	10. Manager

**Long A/N:**

**100 followers! Thanks, everyone!**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**Good ol' Link and company went out drinking again, only to be confronted by a few M.O.D. members. Link was knocked out by Agahnim and woke up in a dumpster the next morning. The next day, he visited Zelda to explain his strange abilities, only to leave when he heard a lot of sirens. He met Dark that night, who gave him a versatile, protective suit to wear during his nightly outings. Cia, the leader of the Y.U.G.A., struck a deal with Link, in which he has to imprison every member of the M.O.D. so Cia can rule the streets, and in return, Link will get to kill Ganondorf and get his revenge. Cia left but not before discovering Link's Triforce. Link returned to Zelda's dorm, and ended up spending the night there. But not in a sexual way, of course.**_

**Also, I think it's about time I started doing this:**

**Shout-out to everyone who reviewed thus far: ZJohnson, LeFireSpy, DemonKingGanondorf, bakuragrey1998, StraightedgeWingZero, miano53, AnimeFreak0507, AnonymousEskimo, LegendaryLegendLayer, Scorpfan4, ChameleonEyes, zelink4dayz, Roflman01, cookiebee, FanaticMarioMan, queenstormborn, Xajenn8, Keiser, dbzgtfan2004, ReaderFromHyrule, i write fanfics not books, HeligaDark, GO ZeldaXLink, prowessMaster44, Marasia, GlamAngel3766, Jewelisawesome, anime099, Zolias, CowTits the Udderly Glorious (who has arguably the best username I've seen on this website) and of course all those lovely guest reviewers, followers, and favorites out there!**

**Thanks y'all. Cookies and hugs for everybody.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 10: Manager**

* * *

Wednesday, October 18

My eyes lethargically open, the air stinging them as they yearn for more rest. Groggy, I check the time on the clock next to my bed; it's only 8:05. That gives me less than two hours before school starts at ten.

I yawn quietly before giving into temptation and shutting my eyes again, rolling over to the pile of pillows next to me.

For a while, I'm content.

Until I remember that I don't have a clock at my beside, and I don't pile my pillows up on my bed.

This ain't your room, genius.

My eyes snap open, and for a brief moment I just see the color yellow. I blink several times, clearing my blurry vision.

Yellow… No, gold… No, blonde.

_Blonde…_

Zelda!

I mentally shriek like a little girl and pull my face away from Zelda's hair, cringing in trepidation for the awkwardness to follow. I breathe a sigh of relief, however, when I notice that she is still sound asleep, lying face-up beside me.

_Phew_.

I relax, shoulders sagging, then carefully remove myself from Zelda's bed. Thinking back to the events of last night, I realize something. I really should leave.

Sleeping with a girl while still in the friend zone would earn a gold medal from Pipit—but I didn't sleep with her in _that_ way. And if I did, I'd be her _boyfriend_. And if not her boyfriend, I'd be_ Pipit_: a player.

What soon comes to mind and worries me is that Zelda may believe that last night was an advancement in our relationship. It could have been, but that's not how I view it. I view it as a warning: keep this up and you'll only end up hurting her.

I can't let that happen.

So I reach down into my pack, withdraw a pen and paper, and write:

_Sorry Zel, had to take off. Can't be spotted leaving the girls' dorm in the morning, can I? That wouldn't go too well with your father. Hope you feel better anyway. —L_

With a huff, I set the note down on her nightstand, give her one last look, and turn to leave.

I silently creep out the door, closing it softly behind me. As I do so, I tell myself, We could both just use a little space. But I'll talk to her again. Definitely.

But Zelda and I didn't talk for four whole days.

* * *

"Mikau."

"Mmnhh…"

"_Mikau_," I repeat, nudging him.

"Hhhnnnmm…"

"Come on, talk to me."

"Eurghhghhghhhunnhhh…"

"Dude!" I grip the boy's dark hair and lift his head up from the tabletop at the lounge. "Get up."

"No," he grumbles curtly.

I turn and fix Pipit with a puzzled expression. "What do we do?" I ask him.

"Sit back, kid. I've got this." He lifts his chin, then moves past me. "Hey, bud. You okay?"

"Go away."

"I've got something that'll cheer you up," he coaxes tantalizingly.

With a huff, Mikau sits up in his seat. His eyes are baggy, bloodshot, and vacant-looking. "If it's anything other than alcohol, I will smack you."

He blinks. "…Even if it's tickets to see Morpha at Odolwa Center?"

Piqued, he stares at him. "I'm _in_ Morpha, you idiot."

Pipit's mouth forms an O-shape. "Damn, that's right, I _knew_ that was someone familiar. Sorry, dude, I forgot."

Mikau shakes his head disdainfully, then returns his face to the table. "Lulu quit… What's the point in even performing anymore…"

Pipit scoffs. "I can name a _ton_ of points. Record labels, celebrities, fame, girls, money, girls flashing you while you're performing, all the sex—" He pauses, looking over at me. "Gods, I wish I were in a band."

"I don't have any of that yet," Mikau's muffled voice retorts negatively.

"And you never will if you don't go perform."

"Mnnngghhhh."

* * *

Thursday, October 19

"Man, how are we gonna cheer up Mikau?" I ask my friends at our lunch table. "He's been absent for two days now."

"We could get him a hooker," Sheik chimes.

I shake my head. "We can't afford a hooker."

He smirks, unrolling the magazine he had stuffed in the crook of his arm. "Sure we can. Look what this magazine says: hookers, forty percent off!"

I squint. "You carry that around with you? What kind of magazine is that?"

"It's Guy-Rule Times."

"What's he so upset about?" asks Fledge from the end of the table.

"Lulu dumped his ass," Sheik explains solemnly.

"Then she quit Morpha," Mido adds.

"She quit?!" Darmani bellows, eyes widening. "But music is her dream! Mikau's, too!"

Sheik sighs. "I know. And right after they got a gig at Odolwa Center."

I squint. "What's that?"

"Odolwa Center?"

"Yeah."

"It's this place downtown that showcases tribal art, or something. They have a concert hall that holds around two thousand people. That's where Morpha's supposed to play."

"If Mikau nuts up, that is," Pipit remarks snidely.

"When do they play?"

"Next Friday, the twenty-seventh."

"That's only eight days away," I muse aloud, biting my lip. "Guys, we need to get Mikau back in this thing."

"How?" Mido asks helplessly. "He's been at home, buried in his bed."

"Maybe," Sheik says, "we could replace Lulu with another co-lead singer, who could fill in all her parts!"

"I'm pretty sure Mikau already filled in all her parts," Pipit jeers with a suggestive smirk, "but yeah. Good idea."

"Can anyone here sing?" I ask the group.

No one raises a hand.

"Well, let's ask them," Fledge suggests, motioning toward the table of girls next to us. Understandably, Lulu is missing from it.

"Okay."

We all stand up and shuffle over to their table. "Do any of you," Pipit begins, "perhaps, know how to sing?" Midna, Zelda, Karane, Saria, Ruto, and Malon's eyes all shift over to us.

We raise our eyebrows hopefully.

"…Why?" Saria asks with a slight hesitation.

"Because Morpha's playing next Friday, and I'm pretty sure you all know that Lulu quit. Our buddy Mikau needs another lead singer."

Malon scoffs. "So you guys are asking us to replace our friend in her ex boyfriend's band to help him out?"

We blink.

"No dice, boys," Midna rebuffs with a careless shrug.

"C'mon," Mido argues, "Mikau's your friend, too!"

"Not anymore, he isn't," Karane retorts. "He broke our girl's heart."

"Actually," I chime, "Lulu brought it up first."

"How do you know that?" questions Malon.

With a hesitant shrug, I explain, "I was there when it all went down, hiding behind a vending machine."

"Why were you in our dorm building?"

I blink, biting a lip. "…I was visiting someone."

Everyone squints, except for Zelda. "Um," Ruto begins, eyebrows raising, "who?"

My eyes involuntarily flash to meet Zelda's for a brief moment, then I return them, hoping no one notices.

Someone does.

Ruto's eyes widen, and while keeping her gaze locked with mine, she raises a finger and points at the blonde sitting across from her.

"Wait, is this why you didn't come home last night?" Sheik asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

I hear nine dubious exclamations of "What?!" all at once.

I grab Sheik's arm and walk away, tossing over my shoulder a hasty "Okay, we'll be going now!"

The rest of the guys follow after us. "You slept with Zelda?"

"High-five, dude!"

"How was she?"

"How soft were her—"

"Guys! Damn, be cool. We didn't have sex," I explain, avoiding the phrase _'sleep together'_, in case anyone were to get technical.

"So where were you last night?" Sheik asks.

"…At Zelda's."

"And you didn't sleep with her?"

I heave a frustrated sigh. "…Technically I did."

"You're confusing me, bro," Darmani grunts.

"I slept… _next_ to her."

They stare at me.

I stare back.

You can literally hear the crickets chirping.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Pipit flicks me on the forehead. "You dumbass!"

"Ow!" I complain, glaring at him. "What the hell?"

"You had a chance to make your move on Zelda and you blew it!"

I sigh wistfully, remembering how awesome that night was. Looking over to Zelda's table, I see her covering her face with her hands as her friends bombard her with questions, who send me the occasional curious glance.

I look back over at Pipit, shrugging helplessly. "What can I say? I told you from the beginning: I don't want a girlfriend."

But I'm starting to think that may be a lie.

* * *

Sunday, October 22

The following few days passed by in a blur. I didn't see Dark; there was no need for me to hit the town with him. The city has been strangely crime-free for a bit. Sure, there'd be the occasional siren, but it'd always pass after a short time.

School's been relatively easy on me. I've taken to completely ignoring Masca and Minish—Sheik's advice—and instead, I've been focusing on my academics. Mikau still didn't show up to school; Nabooru, our math teacher, questioned his absence with concerns about his lagging grades.

Shad called twice. The first time, on Friday, he informed me that Ghirahim and Vaati were on trial. Their attorney, Veran Black, who is a suspected M.O.D. member, was making quite a good impression on the jury. Yesterday, he told me that they were sentenced to a mere thirty days in juvie. They'll surely come for me when they're out.

So today, here I am, sitting alone in my dorm room, glaring contemptuously down at the sketch art of Ganondorf Dragmire. Yet, my mind wanders elsewhere. I think of Cia, the leader of the Y.U.G.A., and the deal she and I struck. The truth is, I've been stalling; I'm skeptical, regarding the plan. I wonder if I am able to accomplish such an immense and courageous task. But then I think of my uncle.

And I know I am able.

My solemn thoughts are interrupted from a knock at the door. "Come in," I call, not bothering to get up from my seat.

The door opens. I turn to see Zelda, offering me a sheepish smile as she stands in the doorway. "Hey," she greets meekly.

"Hey," I reply.

She closes the door behind her, joining me at my desk. "That's him?" she asks, gesturing toward the sketch art.

I nod, meeting the drawing's intense, perpetually unblinking eyes. "Sure is."

"He looks scary," Zelda comments idly.

I shrug lightly. "He doesn't scare me. Just infuriates me, that's all."

She fixes me with a saddened look. "This thing means a whole lot to you, doesn't it? I mean, you could be spending years chasing after something that possibly can't be caught."

"Kinda like that harp of yours, huh?" I say with a smug grin, despite my mood, while recalling Zelda's goal of getting that golden instrument down from the tallest tree in Castle Park.

She smiles warmly, asking, "You remember that?"

I nod, meeting her glimmering eyes. "Yeah, I do."

Zelda smiles to herself, looking downward.

Another knock comes at the door, interrupting our brief awkward moment.

I eye Zelda hesitantly, asking, "Should I…?"

Zelda merely shrugs and says, "Sure."

"It's unlocked," I call.

The door opens. "Wow, you let me come in without checking who it is first?" asks Midna, eyebrows raising, lips curved into a smirk. "How trusting. I could've been a serial killer."

"You don't know me too well. I could be a serial killer too, and you just walked into my room."

"You?" She scoffs. "Please. You're too nice."

I raise an eyebrow, grin wickedly, and touch the pads of my fingers together. "Aren't they all, though?"

"You're freaking me out now, kid."

Zelda and I laugh as Midna shuts the door behind her, plopping down emphatically on the couch. "So am I, like, interrupting anything between you two?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She turns her head to eye us. "I mean, Zel, were you about to hop on the Link Train again, and y'know, take a ride downtown?"

Zelda's face flushes as she sputters frantically, "M-Midna I told you that _we didn't do that_!"

"We _really_ didn't," I assure her.

Midna scrutinizes the two of us skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, likely story. Anyway, um, I came here for some advice."

"Why not see Malon?" Zelda asks. Malon must be the wise one of the group, I infer.

Midna closes her eyes stressfully, heaving a sigh. "That's the thing, though… I can't. And you'll see why if you let me vent."

"Okay, Mid," says Zelda, "spill."

"I think I'm in love with Sheik."

The crickets are back again, chirping away, as Zelda and I stare at Midna incredulously with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Yeah…" I say after a while, clearing my throat awkwardly, "…maybe not going to Malon was a good call."

* * *

Monday, October 23

"She's in love with him?" Zelda asks me dubiously as we walk to lunch, side by side. "How can she be in love with him? I swear, she has a freezer for a heart that pumps ice through her veins!" She sighs, ponders for a moment, then shrugs. "But coolest girl in the world, I love her to death."

I laugh. "I've really never noticed it. I've been hanging with Sheik for a long time now, and she didn't meet with him probably more than once."

"Well, think about it," Zelda says. "He's her _best friend's boyfriend_. It would make sense that she'd stay away from him."

"I hate love triangles," I mumble.

She looks at me bemusedly, smirking. "What do you know about them?"

I smile. "Back at Ordonia when I was… eleven, I think, my friend Ilia had a huge crush on me. I didn't feel the same, but I was still polite. My best friend Talo, who was nine at the time, really liked her, though." A small laugh escapes my lips as I remember the days we used to spend together back at the village. "But yeah, nothing good came out of that. Talo and Ilia both got pretty sad, and the three of us didn't talk for a whole month."

"I hope that doesn't happen to them."

"Me neither," I agree.

From behind me, someone taps a forceful finger on my shoulder. Zelda and I turn to see Ralph, in all his redheadedness, glaring daggers at me with a sour expression on his face. "Hello," he regards us coldly. "A word, please, Link?"

I glance at Zelda, shrug sheepishly, then turn back to Ralph. "Sure, dude." I follow Ralph as he turns the corner and we bank into a hall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands, waving his arms desperately.

"Um, standing here…_ not_ yelling like a madman."

"We had a deal, remember? You would teach me to interact with others so I could charm Zelda! And now I catch you chattin' up my lady?"

I scoff at him. "Zelda was never mentioned as part of our deal, Ralph. Plus she's not your lady."

His face turns rosy in growing anger as he sputters out, "W-why, you… _rapscallion_!"

"Not helping out your cause," I say quietly and mockingly under my breath.

"I'll have you beat, Gaiden," he grumbles threateningly. "Mark my words. If I do not get chosen by the fair maiden, so be it. I will make you a fool before her. A fool!"

"Whatever, Ralph," I tell him, patting his shoulder. "Class dismissed."

I shoulder past him and make my way down the hall. When I round the corner, though, I'm surprised to see Zelda still there, waiting for me; I expected her to leave. "Hey, sorry," I say when I join her again.

"It's fine," she assures me. "What did he say?"

I shrug. "Ehh, something about Pipit."

"I would think so."

"Oh, by the way," I say, grabbing her attention, "speaking entirely hypothetically… can you, by any chance, sing?"

An understanding smile stretches across her lips. "Oh, I see what this is. You want me to sub in for Lulu in Morpha. That's the reason you came here to talk to me in there first place, isn't it?"

"I happened to think of that just now, but it definitely isn't the reason."

"Sure," she responds skeptically. "Then what's your reason, Link?"

I shrug, admitting with a shy smile, "I like talking to you."

She sighs, matching my smile with one of her own. "Well either way, you're a good friend."

"It's my best quality," I jeer, grinning.

"To answer your question, though," Zelda begins, "I like to think that I can sing. But I am terrified of performing, even if it's for my friends."

"So two thousand people isn't your cup of tea."

"Not exactly."

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Okay. I can't force you to sing, so I guess I'll have to find someone else."

"Maybe I can try to talk Lulu back into singing," she says. "I doubt it'll work, but hopefully she won't screw up her dreams of becoming a music star over a bad breakup."

"Hopefully," I agree with a nod. "…Thanks."

"Yeah," she replies. "I'll see you in _Mascara's_ class."

"Hey, that name spread?" I ask hopefully.

"Sure did." She sends me a smile as she leaves, before turning to join her friends at their table.

* * *

Tuesday, October 24

I watch with amusement as Arian and Leo attempt to tinker with the chemicals in the test tube on Mr. Masca's desk. He had left to use the restroom, giving us students valuable time to find our youth again and screw around like sixth graders.

"Just pour the bubbly stuff into the yellow stuff," Arian urges, handing Leo a pair of tongs to handle the glassware.

"What if it blows up in my face?"

"With a face like yours, who cares."

I sit with Darmani and Pipit, idly watching Leo threaten to pour the chemicals on Arian's head, and ask them, "Have you guys heard from Lulu recently?"

"Well," Pipit begins, sighing, "she called me up to try and make Mikau jealous, but being the good friend that I am, I declined." He nods gallantry. "After a little hand stuff of course."

"That didn't happen," Darmani refutes matter-of-factly.

He sighs in defeat. "Fine, you're right. It was tongue stuff."

Darmani rolls his eyes. "So how're we gonna get Lulu back in the band, man?"

"I don't know," I admit, shrugging hopelessly. "Zelda told me she'd try to talk her into it, but I'm still unsure. Maybe Mikau's just going to have to change his songs so he has the only vocals."

"Either that or Evan, Japas, or Tijo will have to sing," Darmani mutters to Pipit. "That won't go too well."

"Who are they?"

Darmani squints at me. "You've never met them? They're in Morpha. Evan plays the keyboard, Japas plays bass, and Tijo drums."

"Ah. Not the best singers?"

"Let's just say I'd rather be forced to listen to constant Katy Perry."

* * *

Wednesday, October 25

"Two days. We've got _two_ _damned days_."

"I know."

"And Lulu is _still_ locked up in her room."

"I know."

"And no one found a replacement for her."

"I know."

Mikau sighs, putting his hands to his face. "I guess there's only one thing to do." He looks at me. "You're gonna have to sing with me."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Um, no can do, bro."

"Why?"

"Because usually bands want their performances to be _good_."

Mikau cracks a smile, his first one since the breakup. He's actually been making decent progress in the moving-on process; he had come back to school on Monday, and he even checked out a few attractive sophomores. Massive strides, in my opinion. He's done better than Lulu, I can tell you that. "You think you're not a good singer?" he asks me, eyebrows raising.

I shake my head. "No, Mikau. I _know_ I'm not a good singer."

Mikau squints, eyeing me suspiciously. "I'll bet that if you try it, you'll be surprised."

I shake my head stubbornly, disbelieving him. Then, curiously: "Why do you say that?"

With a meager half-shrug, he smirks. "From a singer's perspective, I can tell that you have a nice voice."

Unsure how to respond to such a peculiar compliment, all I can do is raise an eyebrow and look at him weirdly, shifting uncomfortably on my dorm couch.

"Have you sung much to know that you're a bad singer?"

"Look, Mik' Mill," I say, "you're one of my best friends and all, but I wouldn't even sing in the shower if I was the last known life form on the planet—no less in front of two thousand people."

"It's actually closer to nineteen-hundred…"

My eyes narrow.

"Fine," he drawls, hanging his head so his jet black hair billows down toward the floor. "I guess I'll have to cancel it."

"No!" I exclaim, placing a hand on his shoulder and roughly shaking him back and forth. "You can't! This could be your big break!"

"If it is our big break, do you know how shitty it'd feel to not have Lulu with us?"

"Well, that part you can't control," I tell him, sighing. "If she realizes her mistake, then she'll return and you'll all become famous together. But if she doesn't… that isn't worth your time."

He turns his head to look solemnly at me.

"It's time to focus on _you_, Mikau. Don't let Lulu's absence ruin your dream."

"You're right." A small smile twitches onto his lips. "Thanks, Link."

I nod.

"So," he huffs, gripping his knees with his palms, "I guess I have to get rid of all the duets."

"How many songs does that leave you with?"

He closes his eyes, counting in his head. "I believe that leaves us with…" He opens his eyes and looks at me. "…Four."

I blink. "Damn."

"I know. I'm totally screwed." He looks at the floor hopelessly, appearing completely lost.

"Maybe I can help you pick some new songs," I offer.

He scoffs, commenting sarcastically, "Yeah, _okay_."

I squint. "I'm serious."

"I appreciate it, Link, but you live out in the sticks. We don't play your redneck music."

Glaring, I reply, "I live _here_, Mikau, not the sticks anymore. And we don't listen to_ redneck music_." Although, Mikau has a fair point. I can still remember the haunting lyrics of Fado's folk song on the trip to Castle Town...

"Fine. Let me hear it."

"First let me know your band type."

He grins. "We play a wide variety of songs, ranging from classic, current, and alternative rock," he explains with a flow that suggests he's practiced this speech. "Occasionally we will throw in a pop song, if it fits with our band style."

"I'll take it you rule out some classic rock, like Aerosmith." I point to my throat, referring to Steven Tyler's raspy voice.

He chuckles. "Don't expect me to lose my voice mid-concert while singing _Dream On_."

"Noted." I grin. "How do you feel about Pink Floyd? The Red Hot Chili Peppers?"

With a shrug, he admits, "Not sure. Play me a sample."

I go into my smartphone's music library, playing him the song_ Under The Bridge_. The sweet tune of acoustic guitar fills the room, and Anthony Kiedis' voice sings softly:

_'Sometimes I feel_

_Like I don't have a partner…'_

"Sounds nice so far," he comments. "Too bad I don't have his accent." We keep listening, Mikau bobbing his head rhythmically, until he nods at me. "I like it. I'll add it."

"Good." I flip through my songs until I find a more recent song. "How about this song from OneRepublic." I press play, and a softer acoustic tune rings out.

_'Lately I been, I been losing sleep…_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be…'_

"I like this one too."

After a few more songs, I look at him smugly. "So. About this '_redneck music_'."

"Okay. I was wrong. I'm sorry." He smiles meekly. "You saved my ass."

I nod. "Damn straight."

* * *

Thursday, October 26

The unremarkable, diminutive grocery store sits meekly between a dominant retailer's towering headquarters and a three-story department store. To all the passersby on Market Street, the tiny grocer seemingly escapes their vision.

Meanwhile, I stand across the street, shrouded in the alley's darkness, staring determinedly at the front doors. The white, florescent light spills out through the glass and onto the sidewalk, flickering on occasion. There, inside those doors, was where I first met Ganondorf.

Before I left, I knew that my chances of meeting him again at the exact same location would be slim. But during my outings, I always follow the sound of sirens—and if none are heard, I just follow my own feet. Tonight, this is where they took me. The place where my life took a hundred-eighty-degree turn.

I throw on my cap, completing the outfit Dark had given me the last time I've met with him, more than a week ago. I decide to call it quits and head back to the academy, too depressed to hunt tonight. But as I take my first few steps, I hear a thud and a quiet grunt, then a husky voice.

"I am getting impatient, Hero."

I turn around curiously. A few yards away stands an incredibly muscular man, wearing a thick bulletproof vest underneath a red tee. Black war paint streaks across his eyelids and over the bridge of his nose, and jutting down on each cheek in fanged patterns. A gray knit hat sits on his head. His baggy, dark jeans, ripped at the knees, hang down to his red, Air Jordan high-tops.

_J's? Really?_

"State your name," I assert, lifting my chin sharply.

His piercing yellow eyes lock with mine beneath my mask. "Volga."

I mentally go through the list of M.O.D. members I have heard of. His name is unfamiliar.

I wait for him to say something. When he doesn't, I grunt, "What do you want?"

"On Cia's orders, I have been looking for you for over a week." He smirks. "If you have gone back on your deal, it is my duty to bring you to her."

I shake my head, raising a hand. "At ease. I have not."

His lip twitches; perhaps he _wanted_ to try and capture me. I note the large weapon strapped over his back, hand tingling in warning.

Volga strokes the blonde stubble at his jaw, gaze falling to the pavement. "I see. What progress have you made?"

"I will handle it," I respond curtly, turning around.

He clears his throat, halting me. "I _asked_ you a _question_," he says, a hint of hostility in his voice.

"I am aware of that," I toss over my shoulder. "You do not need to know, as I do not trust you."

"I am on direct orders from Cia. I _have_ to relay this information to her."

"I do not trust Cia yet, either." I turn to throw a glare at him before starting to walk away. "Goodbye."

"Maybe we do not trust you!" he shouts, clenching his fists.

I roll my eyes, turning to face him fully. "I don't _need_ your trust," I spit. "You're criminals. I can do this myself if I have to."

"_You_ are a criminal, too. Do not deny it."

I smirk. "The criminal of criminals, maybe." Turning around, I leave him seething with anger.

As I exit the alley and jog briskly down the sidewalk, my eyes drift up to the sky. A tiny star, hanging over my head in the night sky, twinkles brightly when I flick my gaze up to meet it. I lower my eyes, careful not to knock into any pedestrians as I run, and smile to myself.

_Hi, Rusl._

* * *

**Another long A/N:**

**"I'd rather be forced to listen to constant Katy Perry…" Sound familiar? :D**

**So in the very first chapter I said this would be only fifteen to twenty chapters. Yeah, no. That isn't the plan anymore. I have lots in store for this. A rough estimate would be near thirty. Happy about it or not, that's my current plan, and I'm sticking to it. Well, currently.**

**Thanks again for the 100 followers, y'all. My next goal is to get to 200 reviews, as I've never done that yet.**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, eat sausage, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**

**P.S.:**** Dear guest reviewer named Q Marsh,**

**Thank you so much for taking the time to trash my story. It's good to know that you have nothing better to do than go onto Fanfiction and insult people. Your life must be very fulfilling. Also, before you go complaining about my several _"grammer"_ mistakes, get your spelling straight. Sorry, Marshmallow, but you just got roasted.**

**That will be all. Have a nice day :D**


	11. Vigilante

**A/N: Semi-short but incredibly-necessary new chapter. Partly-necessarily long author's note.**

**Thanks to chapter 10 reviewers: ZJohnson, DemonKingGanondorf, silveresque eclipse, Shadelz5665, DrivingLikeJehu, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, Koolkat222, They Call , Marasia, nintendoer27, KatWithATopHat, Zeldageek726, and of course all those rad guest reviewers out there!**

**So, I was on hiatus because of loads of schoolwork. Not only that, but something got me sincerely offended and pissed off. I recently discovered a Zelda story on here that nearly copies this story entirely, as well as borrowing several elements from my other story, Shadow Agent. Literally. They copied it right down to my signature sign-off, Rusl getting shot, and Pipit being a player.**

**You know who you are. Plagiarism ain't cool.**

**Rant over. Moving on:**

**_Last time in Hyrule…_**

**_Our lean, green, Triforce-machine buddy Link woke up in Zelda's bed. (Not how it sounds, folks. Maybe reread chapter ten since it's been awhile.) The following day was spent trying to cheer up Mikau from his breakup with Lulu so he could perform in his upcoming gig at Odolwa Center. Midna, meanwhile, had revealed to Link and Zelda that she was in love with Sheik—despite the fact that Sheik's dating Malon. The drama of it all. As Mikau seemed to be cheering up, Link helped pick the songs for the performance. Finally, Link visited the spot of his uncle's murder, adorned in full Hero gear. He was met with Volga, an accomplice of Cia's who instructed him to make haste on his deal with the Y.U.G.A._**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 11: Vigilante**

* * *

Friday, October 27

"Who the hell're you?!" the officer shouts over the commotion, ducking behind his car as a string of bullets soars overhead.

"A friend," I grunt in response, taking cover beside him, pulling the hood further over my head. Screams echo throughout the street as pedestrians scurry away in mobs, searching for safety.

"Why are you wearing that outfit?"

I whip my head in his direction to glare at him. "Does that really matter right now?!"

The man shakes his head, turning to peek over the edge of the car. More gunfire rings out, and the officer is forced to return to cover. "Still," he grimaces while clutching his right shoulder, "y-you look… familiar…"

I roll my eyes, looking behind the car for myself. The assailants are still there, bearing heavy artillery as they cower behind an overturned Ford truck. I take a good look at each of them, eyes widening. One of them, I recognize easily as Onox. The other four—two taking the offensive and the others taking the defensive—are clearly inhuman. Monsters.

Scaly beasts, wearing brown, ripped cloaks to mask their reptilian faces and bodies. Giant lizards, they seem.

One of them spots me, yelps in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, and points his rifle. I immediately dart back down as the creature fires, and I exhale in relief.

I look over at the cop next to me. "Be warned, they have thick body armor—" I stop. "Hey!" I shout, noticing the blood spill down the man's chest and pool down onto the pavement. "We need a medic over here! Now!"

Someone rushes over to us urgently, careful not to be in the enemy's line of sight, and kneels next to the cop, wrapping up his shoulder with a tourniquet. "We just need to keep pressure on it," he tells the officer, who nods weakly.

The medic turns to me. "Thank you—" A look of recognition flashes across his face. "Say, aren't you that guy who escaped the police a few weeks ago?!"

I blink at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now quit wasting time and get this man to the hospital!"

"Right, right," he says, waving to someone else, who quickly brings a gurney. Still, he eyes me peculiarly. I ignore it.

"Gods," says the new guy, helping the other medic hoist the injured man onto the gurney, "this is getting out of hand."

A police helicopter soars overhead, prompting the shooters to turn their heads—just the diversion I need.

"I'm going out there," I assert.

"Won't you need a weapon?" a medic asks.

I shake my head. "No need."

With a quick breath of preparation, I vault over the hood of the car as the helicopter sends a torrent of bullets toward the assailants. One of which, a lizard, wails in pain as a shell penetrates its scaly exterior and buries into his heart. The rest take cover, save for Onox, who aims his enormous rifle at the vehicle.

I increase my speed, getting closer and closer, knowing that when Onox pulls that trigger everyone on the streets would be in danger as the heli would be sure to spiral to the ground—

_Bang! Bang bang bang bang bang!_

I look skyward to see the aircraft bank drastically to the east, descending rapidly; Onox must've shot the pilot through the windshield. The propellers skid along the side of skyscraper until they snap off, and the helicopter collides with the wall and plummets down to the ground.

The policemen stationed below scramble out of the downed heli's path, nearly crushed as it slams into the street, erupting into flames and tossing debris in their wake.

With a disappointed huff, I narrow my eyes and charge. The remaining lizard on the forefront doesn't recognize me until it's too late; I vault over the Ford and land on the reptile, yanking its neck to the right until it snaps audibly.

"You!" barks Onox, turning toward me.

I grin smugly, then lunge at him, golden light spilling out of my clenched fist. I wind my right arm back, then purposely swing over his head. Onox ducks easily, prompting me to follow up with a high kick to the side of his face.

With a grunt, Onox recoils to the left, frantically firing his gun without aiming. I yelp, dodging the stray bullets, and take a couple steps back. He uprights himself, aiming his massive gun at me again.

I run. The spray of bullets follows after me as I duck begins the defensive barricade the assailants had constructed. A lizard wails in pain as the thick bullets penetrate its scaly exterior before collapsing on the pavement in front of me.

As I cower behind the barricade, the final lizard whirls around and fixes its beady yellow eyes on me. It rears its head back, spewing flames out of its fanged maw, and prepares to charge—before a familiar halberd thrusts through its chest, pointing straight at me.

The weapon is wrested from the dead monster's body, and a black boot kicks it to the ground. In its place stands Dark, attired in his blackened jumpsuit. "Got your back," he calls.

I nod my thanks shortly, dutifully. I briefly peek over the barricade, seeing Onox hiding from police fire. A few officers point in Dark's direction, appearing confused. I look back over at my doppelganger, but he's already gone.

I guess we aren't in this as a team.

Onox raises his gun over the Ford truck and fires several rounds toward me as a warning, then looks back over the truck. I dart out of my hiding spot, but he whirls back around. Onox snarls and charges, baring his teeth, gun aimed up. He pulls the trigger; I prepare to evade.

Nothing comes out. He stops, squints, and swears audibly, running to his stash of clips behind him.

I smirk, sprinting to beat him there. He hastily bends down to grab another, but not before I reach him. My leg swoops up and kicks the heavy weapon to the left, knocking it out of his grasp.

The gun clatters on the pavement and skids out toward the barricades. The officers notice and begin to proceed toward the two of us, but I raise a hand, halting them.

Like a group of puppies following their mother's lead, they obey, simply stopping to view from afar.

The whole world seems to be watching as we square off in the middle of the wreckage. "I guess this is it, Hero," growls the large man, raising his arms outward.

I nod shortly.

"You hear that?" he asks rhetorically, raising a finger. Faint sirens sound off somewhere in the distance, and the officers start to mumble with confusion. Onox smiles wickedly. "That's the sound of your failure. This was all a diversion. You failed, Hero."

I lower my gaze to the ground as Onox takes a few steps forward. "I did my part, and there's no use trying to escape now." He huffs. "Arrest me."

Damn it all. I should have known this was a diversion; is Onox stupid enough to put himself out in the open in such an extreme manner? Of course not. I failed.

I meet his dark eyes, and scoff. "Arresting you isn't my job." Summoning all leftover strength into my right fist, I throw a devastating right hook and connect with his face. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and he cripples to the ground, grimacing. I tower over him now, our roles reversed, and smirk. "But kicking your ass is."

I force myself to walk away, leaving Onox to the police. But as I turn my head, I'm being followed.

Reporters, pedestrians, and policemen are running toward me. To interview, thank, or arrest me?—I'm not sure.

So I run.

After a mile or so, I lose them in a crowd of curious people being walled off by caution tape, and break off into an alley. I hastily disrobe and adorn my casual clothes, stuffing my jumpsuit haphazardly into my pack.

"Call Shad," I order my cell phone. It dials up his number.

"Link?" says the familiar voice of the detective. "Are you alright? I saw what happened at the—"

"I'm fine, Onox is down. What else happened, though? I heard it was all a diversion."

"You're not gonna like it, Link."

I palm my face and sigh. "Have I liked anything you've told me?"

"Ghirahim and Vaati escaped," he tells me with a tone of desperation. "A couple of Dragmire's goons busted them out of the Tri County Jail."

I close my eyes and put a palm to my face in defeat. "…I'm sorry. I should have known."

"And what if you didn't stop Onox, then?" Shad asks rhetorically. "Countless casualties. It isn't your fault."

"I'll bring them back. Goodbye, Shad." So I hang up, exiting the alley, striding briskly toward downtown.

Back in the alley, a small spider scuffles along the pavement, settling comfortably on a discarded rag, before being crushed by a black, high-heeled boot.

* * *

"Ticket, please," says the clerk gruffly, her eyes glazing in boredom.

I quickly hand her the required slip, tapping my foot eagerly. She looks at it, nods, and hands it back to me after stamping it lazily.

"You're a little late."

"I don't hear any music playing," I reply with a shrug, hurrying toward the concert hall.

The clerk rolls her eyes as I disappear behind the door.

I glance at my ticket, looking for the seat number, and notice that it's row one, seat twenty. Wow, Mikau got us some nice seats. I hastily make my way through the dimly-lit room, ignoring the dirty looks I get for occasionally halting to look at my ticket, and finally locate my seat.

Next to Zelda. Yeah, he totally planned that out.

"Sorry I'm late," I murmur to her, taking a seat. "I ran into a little traffic."

Zelda scoffs, showing me her phone screen. "Did this _'traffic'_ involve you getting attacked by any gang lords?" I squint at the bright screen in the dark concert hall, reading the headline: '_Massive shootout on Fourth Avenue causes four-mile backup; Vigilante known as 'Hero' saves the day_'.

I shrug hopelessly, giving her a little smile. "Not gang _lords,_ no."

"Link, you're here!" hollers Pipit, sitting in the seat beside mine, next to Karane.

What, is Mikau playing matchmaker or something?

"Yep," I respond with a grin.

"Gods, I was hoping you'd get here. I was surrounded by too much estrogen," he jeers, lightly elbowing Karane and sending her a smirk.

She rolls her eyes. "Like you aren't always around girls, anyway."

"But tonight, I'm sitting by the best girl."

I settle into my seat as Karane's eyebrows raise.

Pipit throws his arm around my shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Karane. "…_Link_."

I glare at him while Karane hits his leg. "Real funny," she glowers.

Zelda taps on my shoulder lightly. I turn. "Yes?"

She leans closer, keeping her voice low: "Are you okay?"

My heart beats a little faster at her sudden closeness. "Yeah, of course."

She gives me a look of concern and skepticism.

"I was careful. I'm not hurt," I assure with a small nod.

She sighs quietly. "At least tell me what all happened."

I notice, to Zelda's left, Sheik is peeking over, squinting peculiarly. "Later," I tell her discreetly. "People are listening."

The faint light that barely illuminated the room dims to complete black, and the mumbling of the crowd dies down as they eagerly await what's next.

"Castle Town…" booms a familiar voice into the microphone. "We are…" White lights shoot up from the stage, and four figures standing side by side are contrasting dark shadows. "Morpha!" They throw their arms up as a spotlight aims at their faces, and the crowd erupts into cheers at the sight of the band.

"MIKAAAAAUUUUUU!" Pipit screams obnoxiously, whipping his head back and forth. Next to him, Karane stifles a giggle and shoves his shoulder.

"They're hopeless," I say loudly over the commotion to Zelda, who also is looking at them. She smiles and nods in agreement.

"Welcome, everybody!" Mikau announces as the crowd is roaring. "First off I'd like to thank y'all who bought our debut album—but without further ado, let's get this going!"

"They're like, right in front of us!" Midna says excitedly, reaching toward Japas's shoe.

"Just like at school!" Sheik replies with mimicked enthusiasm. Midna glares.

"Alright," Mikau shouts, "this first song goes out to my good pal, Tidbit."

Pipit's smile is wiped clean off his face. "YOU SON OF A—"

"_Woo_!" Mikau shouts, prompting Japas to begin his guitar solo. The familiar rhythm of the Red Hot Chili Peppers fills the room and drowns out Pipit's profanity, as the crowd cheers.

A chill runs down my spine; at first I think it's due to the sheer awesomeness of my friend's situation right now. But I get a strong tingling sensation in my right hand. I'm fairly certain I'm being watched.

I ignore the thought, assuring myself I'm just excited for my friend. So I focus on that instead.

Our group of friends dances, screams, and cheers for Mikau's budding success as Pipit stands rigidly, arms folded over his chest. It will be interesting to see what he does for revenge.

But the more interesting thing currently is Mikau's success—despite the fallout with Lulu. Maybe they'll reunite eventually. But it looks like Mikau's doing just fine without her. And for that I am proud of him.

* * *

"You listened… to the orders… from the man in green," grumbles Chief Auru, leaning forward with his arms resting on the table. "Why did you not rush the assailant when you saw he was alone and disarmed?"

The man before him squirms under his superior's scrutiny. "It looked like Hero could handle it, sir. I didn't want to interfere."

"Captain," Auru sighs, running his hands through his slicked-back, gray hair, "your job is to interfere. You're an officer."

The man merely looks down in shame. "I'm sorry."

Auru dismisses the captain's pathetic apology with a wave of his hand. "Did you at least get a lead on greeny?"

"He goes by Hero, I think I said." He gave a slow nod. "His voice was distinguishably a young man's when he called for a medic for the downed officer."

"Hm." The chief stroked his dark stubble with his thumb. "Keep looking. He seems to get involved with our skirmishes with those gang members. Could be a possible motive, yes?"

The inferior officer squints up at his boss, questioning meekly, "…Motive for what, exactly?"

"For interfering with the duties of the police, and refusing cooperation," Auru drawls out slowly, indicating that the captain should have known.

"Respectfully, sir… other than being a little stubborn, I don't see an issue with him."

Auru fixates his stern gaze on the jittering officer and scoffs. "A little stubborn? He ignored the law. If everyone was 'a little stubborn,' the world would be damn near chaos." He shakes his head and sighs. "That perspective won't get you anywhere with me, captain. Maybe you oughtta change it."

"Yes, sir. I meant no disrespect."

As Auru nears the exit of the conference room, my eyes widen and I wrench myself away from peeking through the window. I whip out my cell phone and pretend to be texting as Auru walks by, a frown plastered on his wrinkled forehead.

I think he bought it.

"Don't think I couldn't see you that whole time, Mr. Gaiden," he calls without turning his head to look at me.

Never mind, then.

I pocket my phone and hurry after him. "I'm sorry, chief," I stress. "But I just had to know what happened today."

"Watch the news."

"Can't afford cable, sir."

Auru stops to meet my eyes. "Well that's unfortunate, kid," he says without any pity, "but you eavesdropped on confidential information. I normally wouldn't forgive that."

I crack a smile. "But…?"

"That's not what I—Please, Mr. Gaiden, leave me to my work now. Detective Shad should be in his office." And with that, he turns and leaves.

"Okay," I mumble, but he doesn't hear.

"Link," calls Shad from behind me. I turn. "In here." His head pokes out from the door as he beckons me to his office before ducking back inside.

Once I've joined him, he motions for me to sit. "Link, I don't know what you're doing here at such an hour." He points to the clock that reads eleven o'clock PM.

"Could say the same for you. You're going to work yourself to death."

He restlessly runs a hand through his curly red hair. "You want my help, don't you? This is for your case." A sigh. "Although…I'm truly sorry Ghirahim and Vaati could not be held."

I nod my thanks without meeting his eyes, but think back to the deal I struck with Cia. If Vaati isn't killed for betraying the M.O.D., then I'll have a valuable ally. Ghirahim is the only real threat in today's unfortunate happenings, but what's one more target. It shouldn't be an issue.

Hey, look at that, my optimism is coming back.

"Don't worry, Shad," I assure. "I'll find Ghirahim."

He narrows his eyebrows. "…_And_ Vaati."

"…Huh? Oh, yeah." I nod quickly. "Him too."

Shad squints, pauses, then leans forward on his arms as they rest on the table. "Link—I'm a detective."

"I'm aware."

"And you're acting strangely."

I fake confusion. "Don't know why you'd think that."

"I'm trained to note this behavior and question it."

"Description of a detective, correct." I nod again.

"Is there something regarding Vaati you aren't telling me?"

"_Pfft_," I scoff. "No."

He doesn't budge.

I blink, faking innocence. "…You don't believe me."

"I'm a detective."

"I see your badge, you know. It's literally right in front of me."

Shad shakes his head, defeated. "Fine. Don't tell me. Remember that I'm only trying to help."

I sigh mentally. The thing is, Shad, I can't tell you. Letting the authorities know I've struck a deal with a gang lord will not only put Hero higher up on the wanted list, but I could be forced to bring in Cia too early. And right now, as she made clear, I need her resources.

"How exactly did they escape?" I ask suddenly, hoping to change the subject.

He runs a hand through his curly hair and adjusts his spectacles. "We found footage of that bald goon of Dragmire's. Everyone at the station was so occupied with the siege that he was able to slip in and out unnoticed."

I squint. "In and out? With two convicted gang members?"

"He wore a police uniform. The bastard must've gotten it at Party City, for all we know. Like I said, we didn't notice."

"And there were no guards where Vaati and Ghirahim were held?"

Shad nods slowly. "There were. Baldy just told 'em to get lost—said he was going to interrogate them. Got the guards to unlock the doors even, the bastard." He gives a frustrated scoff. "Some officers we've got."

"No kidding." I sigh.

"Unrelated," Shad begins, raising a finger, "but fairly important—where were you this afternoon, after your run-in with Onox?"

"At my friend's concert," I drawl out slowly, squinting, confused. "Why?"

Shad's eyes gradually widen. "…Was it Morpha's concert?"

I narrow my eyebrows suspiciously. "Um… If you want an autograph or something, I'll see what I can do—"

"No, no," he interrupts hastily, fixing me with a serious look. My body grows rigid. "Link… there was an assassin present at the concert."

* * *

Saturday, October 28

"Wow, you actually have a cell phone?"

"Yeah!" Dark's constantly-excited voice replies. "It's awesome! I can talk to you from my house!"

I squint. "You don't have a house."

"Remember that dumpster we had a sleepover in?"

"I thought you were _renting_ it—" I cut myself off, noticing how pointless this must sound. "Dark, how can you even afford a cell phone?"

He hums as he thinks up an answer. "I guess I can't really afford it with money. I'm paying for it with—how do I put this delicately?—intercourse."

"That wasn't delicate."

"Neither was the intercourse."

I palm my face, exasperated. "So I have a lot to tell you—"

"Sweet!" he exclaims. "Story time!"

"—But I really need you to focus, okay?"

"Mmhmm. Focused."

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for saving my ass from that lizard thing."

"Anytime. You and I are partners, dude—We're like the Splash Brothers."

"You know I'm a Celtics fan, Dark," I say. "But why did you just abandon me right after?"

"Okay. Think of it this way: you're Steph Curry, I'm Klay Thompson. Together we're the Splash Brothers, but you're the franchise. If I reveal myself to the world, then you won't be the city's lone superstar—the lone hero."

I squint. "The world already knows Klay Thompson exists though."

"I was trying to make an analogy you'd understand."

"How did you learn so much about basketball anyway?" I ask.

"I called Talo."

"I swear I'm going to take that phone away from you," I grumble. "How in the world did you get Talo's number? Or mine, for that matter?"

"Intercourse."

"Dammit, Dark."

I can tell he's grinning, even though I can't see him. He enjoys getting under my skin, for some reason. "What else did you want to tell me?" he asks, suddenly becoming more serious.

"I was nearly assassinated last night."

No reply comes.

I wait. "…Dark."

"I—I—" he sputters, sounding baffled. "Link, I should've been there with you—I'm sorry!"

"What could you have done?" I ask him. "For all we know, that was one of the M.O.D. and they could've taken you out as well."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles nonetheless. "…I promise I won't abandon you. We're a team."

"But what about your thing with me being the franchise?"

"I'll be stealthy—invisible. Believe me, you won't be alone in this."

"It's not a big deal, Dark—"

"You could've died!"

"That's an average Monday for me," I retort.

"How did you even avoid the assassination, anyway?"

"Shad said if I had been jumping or moving around any less, the killer would've had a clear shot on me."

"So I guess you can thank Michael for that."

I squint. "Mikau."

"Ugh—you know I'm bad at names," he whines. "But I'm gonna have to learn your friends' names better, that's for sure!"

"What? Why?" I ask. "…Dark?"

He had hung up.

Dammit, I wonder what he meant by that.

* * *

Monday, October 30

So _this_ is what he meant.

"What's up, friends of Link!" exclaims, of course, none other than Dark Nyton.

Naturally, everyone's heads swivel back and forth between me and Dark—save for those who have seen him, being Sheik, Mikau, and Pipit.

I rest my face in my palms, expecting the absolute worst out of this situation.

"…Link," begins Zelda slowly, "do you… have a brother?"

* * *

**A/N: Dear aforementioned copier, I get if you're a fan of my writing, and I am all for inspiring other people to write. However, there is a difference between drawing inspiration from a work and taking a work. You took it. So, I suggest you think up your own stories from now on. For your reputation's sake, I did not name you or your story because—despite the fact that I passive-aggressively called you out—I believe in the integrity of people.**

**On a happier note, thanks to everyone for sticking around with me for such long and grueling breaks. I know I'm a jerk for leaving you guys hanging, but you have to understand that I have a complicated life outside this site—as I'm sure you guys do, too. I'm not giving up on this story, no sir!**

**To be continued.**

**Until then, Review, Follow, Favorite, do whatever your heart desires. Just make sure it's legal.**

**~SausageLink43**

**(trademark pending) *wink wink* :D**


	12. Hunter

**A/N: [*Insert cliché comment about how I haven't updated since last year*]**

**Happy New Year, guys! Thanks to chapter eleven reviewers: CowTits the Udderly Glorious, ZJohnson, DemonKingGanondorf, Zeldageek726, prowessMaster44, and all those awesome guest reviewers. (Wayyy less reviews last time around… I've noticed how much of my audience I must've lost during my absence… *sigh*)**

**Some of this chapter's content goes back the beginning of the story. I don't think you have to go back and reread it unless you're really foggy; just bear with me. I'll try to jog your memory.**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**Onox and his lizard-minions led an attack on the police of Castle Town, but thankfully Hero was there to save the day. However, the whole attack was a diversion that the M.O.D. had planned out; the gang busted out Ghirahim and Vaati from jail. After the attack, Link hurried to Mikau's concert to hear the band finally play, albeit without co-lead singer Lulu. Later, at the station, Shad informed Link that there was an assassin at the concert—why they were planning to kill Link was a mystery. When Dark heard of this, he freaked out and vowed to stay by Link's side… which prompted him to go meet Link's friends at school. Oh, boy.**_

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 12: Hunter**

* * *

Monday, October 30

"Dark," I drawl out slowly, eyebrows raising at him. He tilts his head to one side questioningly. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Before he has the chance to answer, I stand up from our corner booth at the lounge and grasp his shoulder, walking him toward the doorway.

"What's the big deal?" Dark asks, throwing his arms out in either direction.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I demand once out earshot. I can still feel their eyes lingering on the two of us, however.

"Um, staying by your side," he replies firmly, "as a true partner should."

"Ugh," I groan, "not at my _school,_ Dark!"

"Whoa, this is your _school_?"

"It's part of it."

"This is dope."

"Don't say 'dope,' Dark. People will think you're a stoner. Especially with that outfit." I gesture toward his all-black attire—jeans, a pair of Vans, and a tee.

Dark scoffs, muttering, "Humans."

"Ground rules," I say abruptly, narrowing my eyes at him. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Your name is Dark Nyton. You have no relation to me whatsoever, but you hang around me because it's insanely rare to come into contact with your doppelganger—make sure you _insist_ that everyone has one. You will not tell my friends anything about our outside identities, and you will _definitely_ not try to make any moves on them." I glare at him pointedly. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" he says again.

"Then I guess you can stay."

He claps his hands together, hope and excitement shining in his eyes.

"But don't make a habit out of it," I add hastily.

"Can we have more sleepovers?"

"Don't push it."

He pouts subtly, but follows me back to the booth anyway.

"Um, guys," I begin somewhat nervously, "this is Dark."

"Hey," Zelda, Malon, Midna, and Mido all say slowly, suspiciously.

"This'll be interesting," Pipit mutters with a delighted smirk.

"You two have met?" Mido asks, turning to Pipit.

Dark grins. "Of course I've met Tidbit!"

"_That's not my_—"

"We've met him too," Sheik says, gesturing toward himself and Mikau.

"Link," Midna cuts in, squinting quizzically, "care to explain?"

"Allow me!" Dark exclaims. "My name is Dark Nyton, and I am—" He looks at me. "—seventeen?"

I nod subtly.

"Seventeen. And I am Link's doppelganger."

Malon squints skeptically. "…You aren't related to him?"

He shakes his head. "Nope."

Zelda looks at me, appearing lost. "…And you aren't brothers?"

"Nope," he assures her, "doppelgangers."

She doesn't look convinced. "I'm pretty sure those don't exist…"

Dark scoffs, turning to me. "Blondes."

I smack his arm. "Shut it."

My double scowls at me, plasters on a fake polite smile, and twirls back around to meet Zelda's blue eyes. "They do exist, my dear—you happen to be looking at a pair right now." He claps a hand on my shoulder and nods. "Everyone has one, even you."

Zelda eyes him, unconvinced, then flicks her gaze to meet mine. I give her a pleading look that says just go with it.

For a brief moment there is silence. I shift uncomfortably on the balls of my feet, looking downward.

"Wow, you were right, Link, maybe I shouldn't have come here," Dark announces abruptly with a light laugh. "This is insanely awkward."

* * *

Tuesday, October 31

As I sift through the bookshelf, I notice Pipit through my peripheral vision, storming over to me with a pissed off look on his face.

I turn to look at him. "Hey, bro."

"Don't change the subject!" he snaps.

I raise a brow quizzically.

"What are we doing at the Castle Town Public Library?" he asks angrily. "It's freaking Halloween! You told me we were going to the bar so we can party!"

Mikau, Sheik, and Dark, who sit at the nearest table, all turn to face me. "You told me we were going to a music expo!" whines Mikau.

Sheik's maroon eyes narrow dangerously. "You told me we were going to Burger King!"

"You told me something but I wasn't listening!" says Dark.

"Look," I sigh, "I need to pick up one book that isn't available at school. It's for my uncle's case, okay?"

"What book would help you with that?" asks Sheik.

"It's about the M.O.D."

"They don't strike me as the type of people to become authors."

"M.O.D.—Men of Demise. It's a mythology book about that dude named Demise," I explain, turning back to the bookshelf. "Aha! Found it." I pull out a lengthy book and study its cover page.

_'Chronicles of Demise,'_ reads its title.

"Okay, we can go now," I announce.

Sheik and Mikau exhale "Finally" at the same time, coming to join me and Pipit.

Dark, meanwhile, sits at the table, nose buried in a book.

"Dark," Pipit calls.

He looks up, nods at us, then returns to reading. "Aw, thanks a lot," he moans, scowling, "I lost my place! Alright, where was I…" He squints down at the text. "Ah, here we go… '_The end'_." He stands up with a wide grin, leaving the book on the table. "Done. Let's go."

After I check out the book, the five of us emerge from the library on Halloween night.

"So, boss," Mikau says to me, "what are our actual Halloween plans?"

"I don't really know. I've never celebrated it," I admit with a shrug. "I don't know what it's all about."

Pipit chuckles. "Well, Link…"

"Oh boy," groans Sheik.

"Legend—and Wikipedia—have it," he says with an ominous tone, "that Halloween is the night all the monsters who lurk in the sewers below Castle Town emerge and wreak havoc on the city. If you come into contact with one of these monsters, it will hunt you down and take you to its lair to feed you to its offspring."

"And where is your proof for this?" asks Sheik.

"Every year, ten or so kids go missing. What else can it be?"

Mikau shrugs. "Pedophiles, maybe?"

He shakes his head. "Uh-uh. I've seen one with my own eyes."

"Then why weren't you hunted down, taken to its lair, and fed to its offspring?" I ask him, eyebrows raising.

He exhales lightly, shaking his head. "…For some unknown reason, I was spared."

I turn to the others, smirking. "It was a costume." They nod in agreement.

"I was spared!" Pipit shouts. "Which is why I value my life and live it as if I'd die tomorrow." He looks at each of us. "So, I say… we go find one and kill it!"

"Yeah! Let's do it!" exclaims Dark, pumping a fist in the air.

"Dark," I say, "sidebar." I drag him out of earshot from the others, giving him a frustrated glare as he stands before me with an innocent look on his face. "Monster hunting? Really? That's only what you and I do! What about not revealing our outside identities?"

"We don't have to," he assures me. "Think about it. If we do find a monster, we'll have a chance to kill it without your friends being suspicious. They would think it's just a Halloween legend."

I blink. "That's actually pretty smart."

He flashes that trademark innocent grin of his. "You underestimate me."

"And I have a reason to. Now let's go."

Once we join them, Pipit asks, "You're both in, right?"

I shrug. "I could either watch you tackle an innocent dude in a costume, or do homework… Hmm. I'm in."

"Same," Dark states, nodding.

Pipit turns to Sheik and Mikau, eyebrows raised. "Majority rules, three against two. You guys are coming with."

"Dammit," grunts Sheik. "Link, you're supposed to be the sensible one in this group."

"I just think it'd be fun to see Pipit get the cops called on him."

"I'm not going to attack anyone human," Pipit assures, although I'm sure everyone assumes the opposite.

* * *

"We're going to want to avoid the residential area," recommends Dark, "so we don't get anyone in a costume. We should head east."

"How are you so familiar with the city?" Mikau asks. "Are you from here?"

Dark chuckles. "I belong in the city."

"You belong in an asylum," I retort sharply.

"Guys," Pipit interrupts, "think about it. We want to find the monsters. The monsters are gonna want to find people. People are in the residential area." He taps his forefinger to his temple. "Sometimes you gotta think like me."

Sheik blinks. "And look where that got you."

Pipit lifts his chin. "Exactly."

"That was sarcasm." He shakes his head in exasperation. "Dude, you believe in fairy-tales."

"Just you wait," answers Pipit. "We'll see one. I'll bet you fifteen rupees."

"Heh, okay. Deal."

I sigh, hating the fact that Pipit's actually going to win this bet.

But I get an idea. "Pipit," I say, "I'll bet you those fifteen rupees that if we do see a monster, you'll wet your pants."

"I'm not going to wet my pants."

"Is that a bet, then?"

"Sure."

I smirk, remembering the Super Big Gulp that Pipit had chugged on our trip to the library. This might actually turn out to be a fun night, I muse, fighting a smile.

Nearly twenty minutes later we arrive at a neighborhood of apartments. Parents keep a close eye on their dressed-up children as they weave between the complexes, proceeding to knock on every door inside to ask for some candy. On the contrary, teens in skimpy costumes prance through the neighborhood, practically begging attention of the entire street. Young, troublemaking boys prowl around with baskets of eggs to throw, and with air horns to scare the smaller children.

"Ah," Pipit murmurs with a smile. "This brings back memories."

I quirk an eyebrow, but remain unsurprised that Pipit had been a rascal as a kid. His nature is, more or less, quite the same.

We settle behind a row of bushes lining the residential street, waiting rather impatiently for a monster to reveal itself. As Pipit peeks through the branches, flinching every time a dressed-up person walks by our hiding spot, Dark and I share equally-bored looks. He and I know that our chances of finding a timid, just-born-into-this-world monster are slim. And pretty shady.

But Pipit doesn't know that. How could he? You can't blame him—except for ironically still believing in monsters.

Despite Dark's reassurance, I still hope that we do not encounter a monster. My friends have already seen enough of my secret life, with the fight against Agahnim outside that tranny bar. It truly is a crazy life, and I'd like it to be kept to myself for now. There are some things that people can't handle.

After roughly twenty minutes of absolute nothing, Sheik grumbles, "Come on, guys, I say we call it a night."

"Hey!" snaps Pipt accusingly. "You're just saying that to win the bet!"

The blonde sighs. "If we go home right now, I'll call it off. I'm tired."

Pipit puts a hand to his face. "…Okay, guys, I have a confession to make." He closes his eyes and tilts his head up. "I don't… actually believe in monsters. I just wanted to hang out with you all for a while longer… and see if we could make an awesome memory out of tonight."

A pause. "…That's the dumbest reasoning I've ever heard," Mikau snorts. "We could've just gone to the lounge!"

"But think about it. Our best moments happened out here in the city. The city is alive, guys! It's amazing!"

I've never wanted to agree and disagree with someone so much at one time.

"Did you mistake a pack of weed for a salad again?" Sheik asks.

Pipit groans. "I thought 'Kush' was a type of lettuce back then, okay?" He looks at us now. "I guess we can go. There's no point in staying anymore."

"Thank you," exhales Sheik, mid-yawn.

As we walk back, Mikau nudges my side and smiles lazily. "Don't worry. Halloween is always kind of a let-down."

With a shrug, I reply, "At our age, yeah."

Mikau gestures toward Pipit at the front of our group. "If you haven't noticed, Pipit can get a little clingy."

"I guess I never thought of it that way."

He nods, observing Pipit as he leads the way, staring at his footsteps. "He will just call it 'loyal'," Mikau explains, "but he tries his hardest to keep all of us together." His gaze falls. "Although he can get a little extreme, I don't blame him, you know. Partly 'cause we've lost close friends to other people in the past."

"Like who?" I question.

"Darmani mostly, and then Fledge."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess. I've noticed that they don't really hang out with us."

Mikau nods solemnly. "Darmani and Pipit used to be best friends as little kids. They're roommates now, and he and Fledge sit with us at lunch, but it's different. Darmani has the football team, and Fledge has his book club or whatever those smart kids do, so they spend most of their time without us."

I look at Pipit. "That explains a lot."

"Right," Mikau agrees. "It didn't sit too well with Pip, so we try our best to stick around with him. We've developed a high tolerance to his antics, too." He grins to lighten the mood of the conversation.

Five minutes later, we find ourselves in a dark street near the market. Its flickering street lights, cracked pavement, and ominous fog creeping between the alleys send chills down my spine and invoke an uneasy feeling among our whole group. Even Dark, typically incapable of keeping his mouth closed, is hushed to silence.

"Uh, Pip?" Sheik murmurs quietly. "Did you take a wrong turn?"

The boy runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip nervously. "I, uh… I must've…"

"Let's turn around," I suggest. Lacking other options, they follow my lead and turn around—only to freeze in place.

About five fathoms away stands a maroon-skinned behemoth, an otherworldly creature standing nearly eight feet tall and weighing roughly half a ton. Its bedraggled clothing consists of a mere brown tarp hanging loosely at the waist. What strikes me the most is how extremely and almost comically fat the creature is. Its belly protrudes from its upper body and sags below the waist, and the creature's stubby legs wobble under the massive weight they carry. In its chubby arms, it drags an uprooted stop sign and swings it around as a weapon a few times.

"A moblin," whispers Dark.

"W-what?" stammers Pipit, quivering in fear.

Dark fixes him with an obvious look. "It's a moblin. A type of monster."

Without taking his eyes off the creature, Sheik reaches into his pocket, pulls his hand out, and offers its contents to Pipit. Inside lies fifteen rupees.

Pipit takes the money and immediately delivers it to me; I smirk, taking note of his other hand covering his crotch area.

Mikau, meanwhile, just silently observes the monster from afar with disbelieving eyes.

"Dark?" I begin slowly.

"Yeah?" he answers, the both of us keeping our eyes locked on the moblin.

"You got your sack?"

"Yeah, between my legs, as always."

"The _burlap_ sack," I snap. "With all your tools."

"…No. Not today."

I turn to Pipit. "I guess you were right in the first place, huh, Pip?"

"This has to be a dream…" he muses, eyes wide as golf balls. "It's someone in a costume, isn't it…?"

"Let's go check," asserts Dark, leaning down to pick up a stray nail. He shows the item to each of us. "Find something. Just in case."

Mikau finds a steel trash can lid, Pipit picks up a wooden plank, Sheik withdraws a pocketknife and flips it open, and with nothing else to choose from I am forced to take a discarded sneaker as my weapon. Look out, moblin.

Pathetically armed, the four of us follow Dark as he cautiously approaches the creature. My doppelganger stops about fifteen feet away, lifts his chin, and calls, "Greetings!"

"Are you an idiot?!" Pipit demands in a hushed voice.

"I'm checking if it's a costume."

The moblin tilts its head to one side and grunts, confused.

"That'd be one elaborate costume," Mikau comments, still awestruck.

I raise a hand to get the group's attention. "Okay… here's the plan," I say slowly, quietly. "We sneak around it through that alley." I point to my left. "But everyone needs to stay calm, and stay quiet—"

"AAAHHH!" Pipit abruptly screams out of panic, sprinting toward the alley.

"Dammit, Pipit!"

The moblin bellows, points its stop sign at Pipit, and charges toward him with insane speed for its weight. Our friend is quick, but no match for the moblin's long and thunderous strides.

With no other choice, we sprint after Pipit, terrified for our lives. Me less than the others, of course, but I'm not willing to reveal my powers yet.

We duck into the alley, only to be stopped short by a dead end. The creature's thunderous footsteps are growing increasingly nearer.

"Ladder!" Sheik shouts. We all whip our heads in the direction he points to. Sure enough, a rickety, rusted ladder is there, leading up to the rooftop.

"Come on!" Mikau orders, leading the way there. One by one, we climb up—myself and then Dark trailng the pack.

The moblin grunts upon rediscovering our location, breaking into a full sprint toward the five of us. We instinctively climb faster, until a yelp from behind alerts us.

The monster had yanked Dark down to the ground where he now lay with wide eyes, looking directly into the yellow irises of the corpulent beast. It lifts the uprooted stop sign up, threatening to bear it down upon its captured prey. As a last-second action for his life, Dark thrusts the nail into the belly of the moblin.

Rearing its ugly head back, the beast bellows in pain, giving Dark the perfect opportunity to scramble to his feet and dash back up the ladder. We ascend to the rooftop once he safely joins us.

As my friends stand there, breathing heavily out of their ultimate relief, they stare wide-eyed at Pipit. Though none will say it, they are all thinking: You were right.

"Okay…" begins Pipit, fixing each of us with a bewildered expression. "Who put weed in my salad again?"

* * *

Wednesday, November 1

"So." Zelda squints her eyes thoughtfully. "He's actually your doppelganger."

"Yep," I answer truthfully.

"And not your brother."

"Right."

She bites her lip, avoiding my eyes. "…I feel like you're leaving something out."

"I'm telling the truth," I assure her.

However, I decide to leave out the relatively-big part about Dark being an inhuman creature summoned from the dark world by Ganondorf, and how he copied my entire physical form. I do so since I haven't yet informed her of the existence of dark world monsters, of course. Not that Dark is a monster—although, that's something I'm repeatedly unsure of.

"Gaiden," Mr. Masca calls from the other end of the classroom, glaring his yellow eyes at me.

"What?"

He narrows his eyes even further. "Zip it."

Like the true smart-ass I am, I take hold of the zipper at the end of my open jacket and promptly pull it upward, a bemused smile skirting across my lips.

"Not. Your. Jacket," he drawls out, fists clenching in frustration.

Zelda suppresses her giggles as I flash him the OK-sign. He returns to his work, grading papers—obviously, if mine is being graded currently, I'd be receiving a zero.

"My dad would never approve," Zelda begins in a quite voice, "but I like how you handle these jerks."

"You don't have to talk quietly, you know," I tell her with a grin. "You've got him wrapped around your finger. You could get away with anything."

"I guess so," she muses. "But word would get back to my dad. It's hard having a parent working at school."

I suppress thoughts of saying that I'd rather have a parent at school than not have any at all. Instead I nod and offer her a sympathetic smile—since it's easier for me to give sympathy than to receive it.

"By the way," Zelda begins, "um, Malon and Sheik invited me to go with them to Lakeside this weekend… Do you, maybe, wanna come along so I'm not third-wheeling the whole time?"

Sweet Din—is she asking me to spend a weekend with her? Granted, also with Sheik and Malon, but still.

Then again… can I leave the city for a whole weekend? Can I trust CTPD to hold it down while I'm away?

But hey, is it really worth it—romance over the safety of innocent civilians?

"I might have something," I say nervously after a moment of pondering, "but I would love to—if that's okay with Sheik and Malon."

Zelda nods. "Well, um, they already told me to invite you…"

Wow, Sheik—I live with you, but you force Zelda to ask me. You totally planned that.

"Oh," I say. "Well… I'll text you when I find out if I can."

Zelda smiles brightly, excitedly. "Great."

* * *

Thursday, November 2

"Gaiden," he says, maroon eyes staring intensely, unblinking, at me.

Even in my full Hero attire, he recognizes me. And I have to admit, I'm a little confused. "Anemoi."

The tiniest hint of a smirk brushes across his lavender lips. "You remember my name, even after putting me through the slammer. How thoughtful," he cooes with that smooth voice of his, words dripping with sarcasm.

I nod shortly. "And you know mine, despite my disguise."

"I've known your true identity since Dragmire put a bounty on your head." That tiny smirk is gone, now. "No one can push open the academy doors as hard as you did—and no one can beat up Groose as easily as you did." He turns to look down from where we stand, atop a roof in central Castle Town. We watch cars buzz by, yellow headlights tearing through the night sky and giving the streets a warm glow. "Plus," he says without meeting my eyes, "that Hyrule Academy sweatshirt was very obvious."

I nod, unable to disagree.

"Do you remember the last words I said to you, Gaiden?"

I squint at him, confused. "I don't."

Vaati intakes a steady breath of the damp city air, then releases. He seems oddly calm—and, oddly, so do I. "I told you that Ganondorf's gang needs to be taken down." He looks over at me. "As I'm sure you've figured out, I was never loyal to him. I am a trusted member of the Y.U.G.A."

"I happened to meet Cia," I answer with a nod.

"She told me about your meeting, and about your deal."

"Do you approve of it?"

His head swivels back to view the city lights below. "Despite our previous verbal and physical disagreements, I do approve of the deal. I feel that it's logical and resourceful for both ends."

I nod slowly. "Truthfully… I've never imagined you to possess such composure—especially with me, an old enemy."

"And this is coming from the reckless, hormonal boy who risks revealing his superhuman identity in order to impress a girl."

I freeze, taken aback, biting my tongue from coming back with a derogatory retort. "Well—she's attractive."

Vaati scoffs, without a change in his facial expression. "Such a weakness of yours. Love is more dangerous than you can imagine, Gaiden." He pauses. "I'd be willing to guess that you have already revealed your identity to this girl."

I blink once, twice. "…Well—"

"—_she's attractive_," he finishes for me, finally showing remote signs of a sense of humor.

"On the subject of my identity," I begin, "I'd prefer that you don't call me by my real name."

"What do you go by?"

"Hero."

He fixes me with the same blank expression. "…I refuse to call you that."

"Fine. Just not 'Link' or 'Gaiden,' please."

"How about 'dumbass'?" he asks blandly.

I glare at him. "Very funny."

"I wasn't joking."

Big surprise, there.

Rolling my eyes, I decide to move on from the topic. "I've got a question for you," I begin. "When Sakon broke you and Ghirahim out, how were you not taken back to Ganondorf?"

Vaati turns to face me, reaching a hand up to his face, rubbing his thumb along his left cheek. The pale color of his skin is smeared off to reveal a tattoo of a gray triangle, upside-down so it points toward the ground. "See this. The Y.U.G.A. emblem." He taps the triangle with a pale forefinger. "A triangle. Each corner represents one thing: strategy, strength, and stealth."

"Your point?"

"Because we have these values in our gang, we pride ourselves on thinking of multiple possible outcomes. We are never outsmarted. We are always one step ahead." He nods with determination set firmly in his eyes. "You have chosen wisely to work with us."

Once again, I can't disagree.

"Now. The reason I am truly here." Vaati turns and extends his hand.

I hesitate, looking down at the white-gloved hand and then at Vaati's maroon eyes. Finally I take his hand, and Vaati gives it a surprisingly-weak shake.

"Until your deal with Cia is complete, I pledge my loyalty to you," he asserts with a dutiful nod.

"And I to you." I nod back.

We retract our hands.

"Farwell, dumbass." With that, Vaati leaps over the edge of the roof. I look down frantically to see as he extends his limbs in all directions, the lavender cape he wore morphing into a wingsuit. He glides through the street until weaving through a pair of buildings, disappearing from my sight.

_Dumbass. _I hope he meets the tail end of a flick of pigeons.

* * *

I stroll down the southern streets of Castle Town. As I continue along I notice that I'm receiving more looks of recognition on the faces of the civilians; in the future I may have to consider traveling in stealth.

A bearded man shoulders past me, reaching into my pocket as he does so. Normally—as in, before my Triforce had awakened—I would never notice such a subtle action. But this pickpocketer happened to pick the wrong victim.

Without looking at the man, I discreetly snatch his arm and forcefully rip it out of my pocket—all the while silently walking forward. He yelps, flailing under my strong grip before I release him, prompting him to scram, stumbling over his feet as he does so.

I stifle a chuckle. How pathetic, it must be, to resort to a life of crime. It has never occurred to me that one can "run out of other options," as criminals so often claim. My heart goes out to the general public, non Triforce-bearers that is, who would not notice the man's greedy hand slipping into their pockets. They are not as lucky as I am, in that case.

_Good for me; I can avoid thieves. I still don't have a family though._

I blink in surprise—where had that come from? What has my mind come to, thinking such remarkably pessimistic thoughts? Looking upward, I see the stars twinkle in the night sky. _There_, I muse, _are your good fortunes. Ignore that inner demon._

I blink several times to clear my mind, proceeding forward.

I notice someone's presence to my left, walking stride for stride beside me. Thinking nothing of it, I pick up my pace, but the person does too. Finally, I whirl to my left to face the creep, only to be met with a bright grin.

"What up, Link?"

My eyes widen. "What the hell—don't say my name!"

Dark hits himself in the head. "Aw, dammit. Sorry, Link."

"Dude!"

"Sorry!" he groans. "Gods, it's hard! I just got used to calling you Li—er, by your name. 'Cause, you know, I'm hanging around your squad now."

"Yeah, um, what's with you following me around so much nowadays?"

He pouts. "…Do you not want me around?"

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Well I don't have any other place to go."

I squint at him. "Where'd you sleep the last two nights?"

With a shrug, he answers, "Behind your dorm building."

I scoff. "Dark, you can't do that!"

"Don't say my name!" he scolds with mimicked enthusiasm, wagging a finger at me, but the smirk on his face gives up his act. "See, it_ is_ hard."

"Okay, sure. But dude, you can't sleep on our school property. You could get arrested."

"Pfft. I'm not on any records."

"Then they'll think you're an illegal immigrant. They'll deport you to Termina or somewhere." I shake my head as he just nods along, unfamiliar with this age's law system. "What happened to that dumpster of yours, anyway?"

"Oh, um… I left it."

I squint suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because it's unsanitary."

"Imagine that," I mumble. "But it wasn't an issue for you before. So what made you leave it?"

He shrugs. "Some mean dude came to the alley a couple days ago and made me leave."

"Was he an officer?"

Dark shakes his head. "No. He told me to leave. I had just woken up, so I was naked, so I was all like 'We can share,' which didn't necessarily mean what it seemed like to him." He points to his groin area for emphasis, shrugging helplessly.

"And what did he say?"

"That if I ever went near that alley again he would—" He uses air quotes: "—'cut that thing off and shove it down my throat.'"

I stifle a laugh. "And you believed him?"

"He had a scary knife!"

Squinting suspiciously, I ask, "What did he look like?"

"Pale skin, died white hair, weird outfit. Looked like an emo."

"Oh, Gods," I say, recognizing that description anywhere. "That's Ghirahim!"

He doesn't mirror the enthusiasm. "So?" he asks blandly.

"He's in the M.O.D."

Dark's eyes widen. "Thank Gods he didn't recognize me, or I would've been dead meat."

I nod. "That's because he was in jail. You weren't summoned till after he was brought in. He didn't know you're wanted."

"I'm sure he knows you are."

"I'd agree, being the one who got him arrested."

"Yep. That'd do it."

As the two of us walk, I realize now how ridiculous we must look to the outside eye. Two teenage boys, presumably twins, walking down the street side-by-side in matching costumes, one green and one black. Maybe they think we're just a couple of amine freaks leaving some lame convention.

"Are you scared of him?" I ask Dark after a bit.

"Who?"

I look at him. "Is your memory that short? Ghirahim. The guy we were just talking about."

"Oh. Um, at that time, yeah."

I shake my head. "You shouldn't be. You're a monster slayer. Some wannabe thug shouldn't scare you."

"I know, but I don't necessarily have superpowers like you."

"You can see perfectly in the dark, you told me. And I've noticed you're significantly more agile than a typical human."

"…I can't shoot lightning," he pouts, crossing his arms.

"It's overrated."

"Overrated? You never have to microwave your popcorn again! Just shoot the damn thing and you're set for the night!"

I grin. "Okay, you're right."

With a sigh, Dark looks at the ground. "If I had lightning, I would've zapped that freak till he was cooked."

An idea comes to mind suddenly. "Hey, Dark, you wanna get some revenge?"

Dark looks at me. "What are you planning?"

"To put Ghirahim back in jail," I reply, a smirk brushing across my lips, "with force."

Dark's face lights up. "Count me in!"

* * *

The alley is ominously black, but Dark proceeds into it with confidence, due to his enhanced sight. I've noticed that in dark places, his scarlet eyes mysteriously begin to glow. Perhaps it is another quirk to dark world beings, but I personally think it's rather cool.

We step forward cautiously, Dark deciding it wise to bring an actual weapon this time—his trademark lead pipe with a sharp metal end jutting out of it—instead of settling for a mere nail as a defense mechanism. I, meanwhile, carry nothing, finding my own abilities sufficient. While I strut forward confidently, unbeknownst to what dangers lurk ahead, Dark meekly and cautiously trails behind me.

"What is it?" I ask in a hushed tone. "Do you see something I don't?"

He nods simply, then points.

I turn around. Ghirahim's there.

"Gaiden."

I narrow my eyes, clenching my fists tightly. "Daemon."

I look him square in the eye through my disguise. Aside from the bruises skirting his cheekbones, his appearance has remained quite the same: pissed-off expression, long white hair, pale skin tone, silver lipstick.

From behind him comes another figure, a woman, taking slow, delicate strides in her tall black boots. She steps into the light, revealing pale skin that takes a bluish hue. Her eyes are made up to resemble a cat's, and her navy hair is tied back into a long and voluminous ponytail, with a bright orange streak running through. She flashes a wicked smile before speaking in a smooth and entrancing tone: "Could this be the boy who was at the concert the other day?"

My eyes widen. "You're the assassin."

She nods, extending a black-gloved hand. "Veran Black. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gaiden."

So she's also the supposed "lawyer" who broke out Ghirahim and Vaati.

Instead of leaving the hand to hover, I take it, sending a jolt of electricity into her.

She yanks her hand back, shooting me a pouty glare. "Ow! _That_ is no way to treat a lady."

Ghirahim steps forward. "Why are you here?"

"To take you back to prison."

Ghirahim smirks. "I see. You're afraid that I'm gonna tell Mr. Dragmire who you really are—where you live, who your friends are, where you attend school."

"Too bad he's away right now," Veran says with a shrug.

Ghirahim nods, sneering. "Luckily, you have some time."

"And you don't." I thrust my arm forward, landing an electric hit right in the middle of Ghirahim's abdomen. He is sent backward and collapses on the pavement.

Dark dashes forward, rearing his weapon back in preparation to swing. "No!" I shout in protest, running to him and yanking the weapon away.

"Weakling," chastises Veran's voice, but neither of us are looking in her direction.

Dark breathes heavily, looking down at Ghirahim as he rolls on the ground and clutches his stomach.

"Veran's gone," he exhales.

He's right.

I drop Dark's weapon, then storm over to Ghirahim. "Go get me that," I instruct, pointing to a discarded coil of rope. He does so, and I proceed to drag Ghirahim over to a gutter pipe. I take the rope and bind his hands to the pipe, secure it tightly, then stand up.

Turning to address Dark, I stop upon catching sight of a graffiti can resting just below a freshly-sprayed design of the M.O.D.'s crescent moon symbol on the opposite wall. I take it, spray an X-shape over the symbol, and scribe next to it: HERO.

Withdrawing my cell, I dial up Shad.

"Link?"

"Tell the chief that Hero has a present for him. West Twenty-Second Street. The alley between the laundromat and the closed-down barber."

And I hang up without waiting for a reply.

* * *

"Can we forget about my temper tantrum?"

"The one that almost caused you to murder somebody?"

"That's the one."

"Sure. Just learn to control yourself."

He sighs. "Will do. Sorry."

"Can I ask a big favor of you?"

"Sure, you can _ask_ it. I don't know if I'll _do_ it."

I glare at him. "I was invited to go on vacation for the weekend with someone. I need you to control the city for me while I'm gone."

His eyes narrow accusingly. "This is for a girl, isn't it?"

I sigh. "Yeah, it is."

Dark nods. "Okay, I'll do it. But," he adds, raising a finger and smirking slyly, "on one condition…"

* * *

_"Hey,"_ I type, proceeding to hit the send button. Then, I wait, pondering.

_"Link, why are you texting me at midnight?"_ comes the reply.

_"I was with friends for awhile,"_ I explain, _"and I was just thinking about your invite."_

_"And?"_

_"I'm free."_

_"Great! :)"_

I grin, typing, _"See you tomorrow, yeah?"_

_"Yep! Goodnight Link,"_ she replies.

_"Night,"_ I reply, then set my FiPhone down on my nightstand. With a huff, I lay back on my bed, yanking the sheets over my body as I do so.

"Who were you texting?" Sheik asks me curiously from his own bed.

"Zelda," I answer.

"Ooh. Asking for some late-night pics?"

"You're hilarious," I grunt in a bland tone. "I was replying to her invite to Lakeside—which I'm surprised why you didn't invite me to it in the first place."

"Because it's funny how flustered Zelda gets around you!"

"You weren't even there to see it!"

He shrugs. "Malon was. Eavesdropping, at least."

I lift my head off my pillow to shoot him an irked glare. "If you know how flustered she gets around me, then why did you make it hard on her and not just invite me yourself?"

"Because—observe." He raises a finger, then proceeds to prop himself up on his elbows. "When Zelda invited you, did she blush?"

I squint. "I guess, but none more than usual."

"Wait, so you're saying she usually blushes around you?"

"I guess."

He fixes me with an obvious look. "Dude, she is totally into you."

"Because of blushing?" I shake my head. "That doesn't prove anything. Some people just get embarrassed easily."

He shrugs. "Whatever, bro. I'm pretty certain about this."

Just then, a figure bursts through the door giddily, slamming it shut once inside the dorm. "Guys! That giant food box thing is so awesome!" gushes Dark, arms overflowing with packages of Pop-Tarts.

"Dark," I grunt, "it's called a vending machine. Whose money did you use?"

"The floor's," comes the typical clueless response.

Sheik puts a hand to his face. "Dude. That was _my_ money."

"Then why did you give it to the floor?"

"I _put_ it there."

Dark looks down at his stash of Pop-Tarts, then back up at Sheik. "So I guess these are yours, then."

He rolls his eyes, sighing, "You keep 'em."

Dark's face lights up, flashing a bright, toothy grin. "Thanks. I like you, Zeke."

"It's Sheik," grumbles the blonde, lying back on his bed.

Still smiling, Dark drops the processed pastries down on the table before leaping onto the couch, pulling a blanket over him. "Gods, indoor living," he muses, looking up at the ceiling dreamily. "This is amazing."

"You've never lived indoors before?" Sheik asks.

"Nah," he admits with a shrug. "I've spent nights indoors before, but that's about it."

Sheik pauses. "…I'm sorry, man."

"What? No! Don't give me sympathy," says my doppelganger. "I love my life. I'm just happy to be here."

Sheik looks at me from the other side of the room, and I just shrug in response. Then, I address Dark: "Well, don't get too happy; there's a chance that the staff will come around the dorms. Since you aren't enrolled in the school, you'd get kicked out."

Dark turns to offer me a mischievous smirk. "Trust me, Link. I can hide really well."

"I'm sure you can."

With closed eyes, Sheik says, "Hey, uh, do you guys think somethin' weird's going on around here lately?"

"What do you mean?" I inquire.

He props himself up on his side, fixing me with a peculiar look. "That… thing. The moblin. It just ain't normal."

"Agreed," says Dark. "It isn't."

"So what's going on?"

I gulp nervously, having previously dreaded a situation in which my friends become suspicious. "I don't know."

Sheik stares pensively up at the ceiling. "Something's going on. I know it."

Without a goodnight, he rolls over, turning his back to me as he settles into sleep.

I lay my head back, glancing out the window between our beds, allowing the comforting light of the stars to lull me to a contented slumber.


	13. Vacationer

**A/N: I live!**

**Sorry, y'all, I've hit a wall. Motivation deprivation. But I've had enough of that stuff.**

**Legendary rhyming aside, thanks to chapter twelve reviewers: Shadelz5665, ZJohnson, DemonKingGanondorf, SSGSS Kai, nintendoer27, Marasia, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, and all those awesome guests! We hit 200, thanks!**

_**Last time in Hyrule. . .**_

_**Pipit dragged Link, Dark, Mikau, and Sheik along on a monster hunt on Halloween night, believing that monsters really did exist. To everyone's surprise (besides Link and Dark who already knew of their existence), they ended up finding one—a giant moblin. After being chased down, they narrowly escaped being cornered in an alley by climbing up a ladder onto the roof. The next day, Zelda asked Link to join her on a trip to Lakeside with Malon and Sheik. Link accepted. After meeting Vaati and forming a reluctant alliance with him, Link joined Dark to take down Ghirahim. During their altercation, Link learned that Veran, Ghirahim's apparent lawyer, was the M.O.D. assassin the night Link was at the concert. Link took care of Ghirahim and left him for the police. Later, Link asked Dark to hold the city down while he was away. Dark accepted, on one condition: he would be allowed to crash in Link's dorm. Indefinitely. Yay.**_

**Before I begin I just want you to know that I really had to grind this chapter out. I don't exactly know why, but it was very difficult to find the drive to continue this. Hopefully it won't share the same fate as Shadow Agent though. As a sort of recompense, I have prepared a pretty long chapter for you all.**

**That's quite enough now. Enjoy.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 13: Vacationer**

* * *

Friday, November 3rd

I arise to the shrill screech of my alarm clock. Groggily smacking the off switch, I force myself to sit up, knees hanging over the side of the bed. Stretching, I survey the dorm. A mess of tousled blankets, Sheik's bed is vacant, as well as the couch in the middle of the room.

Sheik had left. Dark too.

With a yawn, I stand up, swaying slightly, then proceed to get ready for school, finding motivation in the fact that it is Friday, the last school day of the week. Not only that, but it's also the last school day before my vacation.

With Zelda.

. . . _And_ Malon and Sheik, of course.

But mostly I'm excited about Zelda. What—can you blame me?

* * *

"Link, put that damn book down," grunts Mikau, snatching it from my grasp. "'_Chronicles of Demise'_—people are gonna think you're some culty emo dude."

I glare at him before taking the book right back. "I told you it was for my uncle."

"But look at yourself. You've been reading this all day! You're working yourself to death with this case, dude."

To that I just shake my head and keep reading.

"Has this even _helped_ you yet?" he asks skeptically. "Like, how does this apply to you in any way?"

"Hey—Kohen. Gaiden. Volume down a little, please," orders Ms. Spirit from the front of the classroom, narrowing her golden eyes at us.

We nod compliantly. I turn to Mikau and answer him in a low voice, "I'm only halfway through, but I learned a lot."

"Like what?"

"Well—the legends say Demise reincarnates himself. When he does this, bad things start to happen all around." I'm sure to keep my answers as cryptic and simple as possible.

He squints, curiosity piqued. "Bad things. . . like. . . like those monsters?" Navy eyes of his grow wide. "So do you—do you think Demise has come back?"

After a brief hesitation, I nod slowly.

I guess he was bound to find out eventually—as are my other friends—though I definitely prefer the alternative. Their perception of this world is an illusion too fragile to break.

It was silent between us for the rest of class.

* * *

_'Time had seemed to stop; the air was deathly still._

_Hellish beings lurked about; their intentions solely to kill._

_Servants of the Demon King, these monsters commanded fright._

_The seven years the hero slept had turned the kingdom to night._

_The people cried out in agony, beckoning him to aid. . ._

_But the hero would not wake until ready to wield the Blade._

_The seven years the hero slept had proved to be the rise. . ._

_Of the servants of the Demon King, and their master, named Demise.'_

That was oddly upbeat for such dark subject matter. Flipping past the section of ancient poems, I arrive at a page headlined: The Descendants. Thankfully it's less lyrical.

_'The Hero and Princess of Destiny reincarnate every hundred years or so, when their world needs them most—and with them, so does a descendant of Demise._

_Usually bearing similar resemblance to Demise in terms of stature and facial features, the descendant has an appearance that is not one to forget: tall, vibrant hair, broad shoulders and muscular build.'_

. . . Where does that seem familiar?

_'He possesses an unquenchable thirst for power—so much so that even after obtaining a third of the holy relic, he lusts for the remaining two.'_

I hadn't known Demise's descendant obtained a piece of the Triforce before. I gulp uneasily.

_'His unwavering desire either results in his own perishing, or world domination.'_

"Link!"

I slap the book shut and look up. I'm relieved upon noticing that it's Dark rather than Mikau catching me reading this again.

"What are you doing?" he inquires, plopping down next to me at the library table I sit at.

"Reading this book," I reply, showing him the cover.

"Oh yeah. That's the one you got on Halloween."

I nod. "Why are you here?"

He shrugs. "I was looking for you."

I look at him, awaiting further explanation. None comes; he just stands there with glazing eyes. Finally, I address him: ". . . Why?"

"I dunno. Bored."

I roll my eyes and open my book back up.

"Learning 'bout Ganondouche?" he inquires with an amused smirk, taking a seat beside me.

"That's the plan."

_'In nearly every legend, this man obtains a fraction of the holy relic. . .'_

"Why are you reading about the basics of the descendant?" he asks. I tune him out.

_'. . . and commands an awesome power only the Goddesses can match. . .'_

He taps my shoulder. "You already know who that is."

_'. . . The Triforce of Power.'_

I shut the book abruptly. "Dark—I was trying to read. And no, I don't."

He scoffs. "The descendant of Demise?" My eyebrows raise expectantly as Dark scoffs condescendingly. "It's Ganondorf. Duh."

* * *

"So you never thought to _mention_ that?"

"It was pretty damn obvious. His gang is called the Men of Demise, SherLink Holmes."

I shake my head, exasperated, and continue stuffing my clothes and other necessities into a suitcase.

"You know, this really is a nice dorm."

Ignoring him, I set the book I was just reading on my desk, opting to leave it and my issues behind for a weekend.

But. . . I'm leaving my issues up to—

"Link, you're not yourself today."

I squint. "Really?"

He nods. "Yeah. I noticed the improvement right away."

. . .Dark. I'm leaving my issues up to Dark.

He smirks at my frustrated glare, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me pack. "You're not as chatty. That's what it is."

"Me?" I scoff. "You never shut up. I wish you had an off switch."

"I do. Pretty sure it's near the crotch. No, wait—" He raises a finger, pausing. "—That's the _on_ switch." His smirk opens to reveal a devilish grin.

I roll my eyes and huff, standing up and lifting my suitcase. "I'm leaving. Good luck this weekend."

As I shoulder past him, he says, "You too."

I don't even try to figure out what he was wishing me luck for. I exit the dorm and head down the hall.

"Wait, Link!" hollers Dark.

Piqued, I clench my teeth and ignore him, deciding against waiting for the elevator and instead opt for the stairs.

"Hey! You forgot this!"

This time, stopping just before the staircase, I turn around and glare at him expectantly. Without giving me a chance to see, he lobs something into the air. Eyes widening in dread, I notice it's my FiPhone—and he threw it a little too high.

Quickly I drop my suitcase and leap up, reaching for my phone and saving it from its impending destruction.

"You're welcome!"

But upon my unfortunate landing I lose my footing, and before I know it I'm tumbling backwards down the stairs, clunking my head on each step until I slide down at the end of the flight. Looking up at the ceiling, I blink the spots out of my eyes and wheeze out a pained cough.

"Oh, gods," Dark frantically shrieks. "Link! Say something so I know you're not hurt!"

Coughing, I groan in pain. "I'm really hurt."

"Phew," he sighs. "Thank gods."

* * *

"Link, you look like a zombie."

I grunt. "That's the nicest thing I've heard all day."

With a grin, Sheik says, "Seems like you need a vacation."

I nod, straining a smile.

We stroll down the paved trail bordered on either side by richly-colored autumn trees, the breeze pulling their leaves from thin branches. I pull my blue jacket tighter around me, feeling winter's early bite at my skin. Sheik does the same. "Don't worry," he says, "Lakeside will be much warmer."

"Good," I respond, "or I might catch a cold."

As we walk, I take a moment to observe my surroundings. Radio broadcasts, TV reports, voices all subside, replaced by the chirping of nesting birds, a breeze's quiet passage through a pile of leaves, an animal's slow scamper through the grass. The nonhuman world is emerging, a world I have scarcely experienced since moving here, another hidden city. . . Is my uncle now a citizen here?

"Hey—" Sheik snaps his fingers to get my attention. "—you alright? Kinda spaced out there."

I nod without looking at him, keep walking without talking to him. Sheik realizes what's happening with me; he's grown accustomed to me zoning off every now and then for brief moments. I'm not sure he knows why, though. But it isn't very hard to figure out.

The winding pathway comes to a halt after leading us off campus, breaking off into half of the pair of sidewalks bordering the road. Parked along the curb is Sheik's blue '91 Camaro—which I'm just now learning he owns—with Zelda and Malon waiting inside.

"Just stuff it in the trunk," he tells me, pointing to my suitcase.

"Alright. Just promise you won't be doing that with Malon all weekend."

He flashes a grin. "Well played."

Zelda, in the back, waves to me through the open window. "Hey, Link!"

Instantly her smile brightens my day. "Hey, Zel," I respond with a grin of my own.

Sheik nudges me and whispers, "As long as you promise me you won't be doing that with _her_ all weekend."

I shove him.

Malon sits in the passenger seat, directly in front of Zelda. She lifts her hand up barely in a meager attempt at a wave. "'Sup, Link?"

"Not too much, Red."

"'_Red_'. . . Now that's new." Malon smirks.

I chuckle and follow Sheik as he circles the Camaro, then get into the seat behind Sheik's as he prepares to drive. I run my hands along the smooth leather seats before strapping the belt over my shoulder. As I do so, I receive a peculiar look from Zelda.

"What?"

"You're wearing a seat belt," she comments with a light giggle.

Confused, I nod slowly. ". . .Yeah."

My confusion only spurs her amusement. "I haven't seen one of those used in awhile. You really are an Ordonian."

"Most Ordonians travel by horse or by rusty-old pickup truck." I pause, remembering Fado's rickety vehicle. "Pretty sure I'm not _that_ Ordonian."

"I sure hope so."

Grinning, I lean toward her, reaching my hand out.

She freezes. Her face flashes pink. "W-what are you doing?"

As my smirking face gets closer to hers, I slowly and deliberately lace my fingers around the seat belt, without her noticing. She stares into my eyes, mouth slightly agape in confusion, eyebrows raised, blushing. She thinks I'm about to make out with her. But then, quickly, I pull away and strap the belt over her before she has time to react.

"There!" I shout triumphantly.

"Hey!" she protests, flustered.

"Sorry, Zelda, but I don't want you flying out of the windshield."

"We're in the back seat!"

I shrug. "You could still get injured. I'm doing you a favor." I nudge her arm lightly. "'Cause I care about you." That came out before I could stop myself.

The pink returns to Zelda's face, but she tries playing it off by stubbornly looking away. "Fine, you win."

"Ahem," interrupts Sheik, scarlet eyes meeting mine through the rear-view mirror. "You two finished?"

I give him Talo's trademarked two-finger salute. "Ready when you are, Zeke."

"You hang around Dark too much."

"I'd have to agree."

* * *

My eyes groggily blink awake; I must've fallen asleep. Sheik's still driving as the sun sets, painting the sky in a rich, citrus hue. Beside him, head lolling back, Malon is dozing off. Behind her, next to me—or, against me—Zelda is sound asleep.

Her head rests softly on my shoulder, blonde hair cascading down my blue jacket, head steadily, peacefully rising and falling with her breathing. As I observe, I cannot fight the smile forming at my lips, but somehow manage to fight the urge to bring them to hers. . . Mostly because that would be incredibly awkward positioning and would require a lot of neck bending.

_Yeah, that's why,_ sarcastically chastises my judgmental inner voice.

Sheik turns briefly to look at me, then refocuses on the road. "Oh, good. You're awake."

I nod subtly, trying not to wake Zelda. "I'm just glad that _you're_ awake."

He grins, clapping his hands against the wheel. "Don't worry—I've only been driving about two hours. We're just now entering Lakeside."

"I slept that long?"

"I don't blame you. It seemed like you had a long week."

"No kidding."

Sheik guides the Camaro off the interstate and banks off into a two-lane road that winds through farmlands, complete with grazing cows.

"Lon Lon," Sheik comments idly. "Malon's family's farm." He gazes lovingly at his dozing girlfriend. "We'll stop by sometime during our trip. She will want to."

I nod my reply, observing the vast landscape out the side window.

Sheik continues for another good five or so miles, determined to get home before sundown, to surprise his mother when she gets home from work, he previously explained. Meanwhile I contentedly lean my head against Zelda's, resting my eyes for the remainder of the trip. In her sleep she guides her hand to mine, resting the soft pale skin against it. And in truth, I don't want this trip to end.

_Hoooooooooonk!_

But life doesn't work that way, I guess.

"Wake up, everyone!" shouts Sheik giddily, a playful grin set on his face. "We're here!"

Zelda groggily blinks her eyes awake, feels around with her hands due to her blurred vision, and runs her smooth skin against mine. She yawns, before realizing where she was situated.

She snaps her head up from my shoulder, and frantically looks at me, only to be met with a humored smirk. Her face burns red, and before she can say anything, I laugh.

"Morning, princess." I've never called her that before, I realize. It just seems fitting though.

In the front seat, Malon stretches her arms and yawns, before looking back at the two of us. "Hey, guys. Done cuddling?"

Now both of our faces flash red, and I furrow my brow in confusion.

"I fell asleep after you two," she explains before I can ask.

Sheik excitedly exits the Camaro, shutting the door and moving to the back of the car to the trunk. As he opens it, Zelda and I get out through each door quickly, nervously. Malon follows not too far behind.

We are parked in a driveway, paved in the middle of a large but simple yard, decorated with richly-colored maple trees. Before us lies Sheik's childhood home: a humble structure composed of off-white walls with brick trim. A walkway bordered by perfectly-trimmed hedges leads from where we stand to the short staircase to the entrance, a wooden door with a glass cutout complete with an intricate design of the Sheikah emblem.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Sheik announces in a cliché manner, grinning like a child again. He tosses us our bags. "Come on."

We trek up the walkway and to the door, waiting impatiently for Sheik to dig out the key from his pocket. A minute later, we enter the house.

Once inside, the door shuts behind us, and Sheik flips on the light. A respectable but not-at-all-gaudy chandelier overhead comes to life, illuminating the entry room. Kicking his shoes off haphazardly, Sheik saunters forward through the archway and plops down on a couch in what must be the living room, feeling right at home. We follow suit, albeit more neatly, and look around.

The living room is unexpectedly extravagant, what with his family's upper-middle-class income and, frankly, his personality. He doesn't seem like the type of person to cherish the designer couch he currently lounges on, the ornate end table standing prominently before him, or the collection of fine pottery on display in a glass case beside a well-groomed potted plant. In contrast to the luxury of the living room's contents, the room itself appears ironically small.

Malon, Zelda, and I stand awkwardly in the archway with bags in hands, unaware where to leave them. We must have appeared confused by our surroundings and found it difficult to associate them with Sheik, because when he glances at our faces he smirks bemusedly. "What?" he inquires rhetorically. "Didn't expect the classy side of me?"

With a smile, Malon replies, "Not even _I_ did."

"Well good," he nods, "'cause my mom decided to splurge on decorations after her divorce payed out. Instead of, you know, saving up for her son's college." He laughs, flashing a grin. "Gotta love 'er."

"So where's all the Sheik stuff?" Zelda asks, smiling back.

"Upstairs. Come on."

We follow him out of the living room into a hallway leading to a carpeted staircase, scale it, and emerge at the second floor. The room we arrive in embodies the very concept of cool. An all-red leather couch sits on one end of the room, mirrored on the other side by a sixty-or-so inch flat-screen television; standing before the couch is a sleek black table with overturned Solo cups. Hanging on the wall above the couch is a welded-steel framework of the Sheikah eye.

"This," he announces, arms outstretched, "is the Sheik stuff." He flops onto the couch, digging into the cushions for the remote. He yanks it out eventually, flips on the television, and looks at our expectant faces.

I lift my bag for emphasis.

"Oh, right. The rooms are that way," Sheik says, sticking his thumb to the right toward two doors on a wall plastered with sports posters. "The guest bedroom is on the right, mine is on the left. Malon, you and I can share." He winks.

She blushes, nods with a smile, and goes into his bedroom.

"You're leaving us to room with each other, then?" Zelda asks, eyebrows narrowing.

"I figured it wouldn't be a problem, since it wasn't a problem in _your_ dorm, Miss Harkinian."

We enter the guest bedroom with apprehension, tossing our bags by the closet door. A large window spills natural light into the room from the right wall. An end table sits beside a queen-sized bed. Simple, but quaint.

Zelda sighs; I look over at her. "I can sleep on the floor if this bothers you."

She shakes her head. "No, I really can't ask you to do that. I can cope."

"Am I that much of a nuisance?"

". . .N-no, I—"

"That's what it sounds like," I say with a shrug.

"No," she fires back, almost too quickly. "I _like_ being around you. I just hate admitting it to them because they make fun of me."

"So then they do stuff like this."

"Right."

We quietly exit the bedroom, where Sheik and Malon are waiting. "You guys want some food?" Sheik asks. "I sure do."

He leads us back downstairs, through the gaudy living room, and into the kitchen. It's decently sized, composed of an eating table and four chairs, a refrigerator, microwave, oven, sink, and dishwasher. Pretty standard, which is expected.

"Now, what to eat. . .?" He fumbles around for some food in the fridge, before pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. He turns to us. "Up for breakfast?"

We nod. As he prepares the makeshift meal, Zelda turns to me. "Hey, um. . . How's Dark?"

I shrug. "I don't know; he's not used to being without me. I'm just hoping he won't destroy my dorm."

"No, I mean—" She looks over her shoulder to make sure Malon isn't listening. "—in the city."

"The city? I'm sure he can handle it," I reason. "I mean, what all can happen in a weekend?"

"Do you have his number?"

I nod, then take her indirect advice to call him. I wait as the tone sounds a good five-or-so times, but he doesn't answer. With a huff, I return my phone to my pocket. "No luck," I tell Zelda.

"Maybe he's out with Tidbit."

I grin. "Maybe. Hopefully."

Ten minutes later the food is all prepared. Sheik dishes up, covering half his plate with eggs, and four strips of bacon.

"Are you sure you want that many eggs?" Zelda asks him. "That's a whole lot of cholesterol."

Sheik scoffs. "Please. Cholesterol is the _last_ thing I'm worried about killing me. One, murdered by Mr. Masca. Two—" He stuffs a piece of bacon in his mouth. "—Mauled by my mom's cat. Three—" He walks to the table, leaning down to kiss Malon. "—heart attack during sex." Sheik winks, and Malon grins back.

We hear the sound of keys turning the lock, the door opening, and footsteps in the entry room.

Sheik: "And speaking of things that might kill me. . ."

Ms. Stryker walks into the living room, an anticipating grin on her benevolent face as she meets his eyes. "Sheik, you're home!" She rushes over to hug her son, who returns the hug lovingly. "Ooh, and your friends are here too!"

There is an odd familiarity about her that I just cannot place. Her scarlet eyes hover over each one of us. She has blonde hair cropped just above the shoulders, an aged-but-not-old face, and she wears a white blouse just above a long blue skirt. It's no question where Sheik gets his looks from.

"Hello, Sheik's friends! Well," she pauses, "I know Malon of course. But you two are. . .?"

"I'm Link," I say. "Nice to meet you. You have a wonderful son by the way." I was being only half-sarcastic right there.

Ms. Stryker smiles widely. "I know. But Sheik can never find out about him." We laugh.

She then moves on to Zelda, stops in front of her, then her smile falters a bit. Zelda nervously greets her: "H-hi, I'm Zelda." She reaches a hand out politely. Mrs. Stryker takes the handshake, still staring at Zelda for a good amount of time.

"Mom, you good?" asks Sheik, perplexed.

She then snaps out of it, smiles at Zelda, and finally speaks: "It's good to meet you all! Feel free to stay as long as you'd like. I'm going to bed now, though."

Sheik blinks. "It's eight-thirty—"

"Good night, everyone!"

With that, she adjourns to her bedroom, leaving us awkwardly standing there, making eye contact with one another in ultimate confusion.

* * *

"She _scares_ me," Zelda says, rolling over to lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know what I could've done for her to look at me like that."

I sigh, wrapping an arm around her, boldly pulling her closer. Out of comfort, of course. "Maybe you remind her of someone," I reason.

She pulls the sheets further up over her chest, nestling her head into my shoulder as we lay. "Maybe."

Eventually we hear the unmistakable sound of bed springs from the other side of the wall. Zelda and I awkwardly make eye contact, and I roll my eyes in exasperation. "I was hoping they wouldn't do this," I grumble, shaking my head.

Zelda nods. "Agreed—which is why I didn't want to third wheel this weekend." She smiles at me. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too," I reply with a smile back.

The moment lingers, but is fleeting nonetheless. Zelda lies her head back down on my shoulder, promptly ending our brief moment. In a while, we fall asleep to the peaceful, lulling noises of what sounds like two monkeys going at it with one another.

Ah, nature.

* * *

Saturday, November 4th

Upon our awakening and subsequent dining of breakfast, Sheik had floated the idea of visiting the Lakeside Museum, located a few miles south. We accepted, wanting to experience just about everything this town has to offer.

So here we are now, entering the building after having previously purchased four tickets outdoors. Once inside, I take in the detail: marble walls, ceilings, columns, and flooring, the latter of which adorned with red velvet carpets.

"Excuse me," says a voice to our left. "I'm gonna need to see your tickets."

I turn. Standing there in a blue suit and tie with a spray-tanned face, gelled-up fauxhawk hairstyle, and a cheesy smirk, the museum docent holds an arm outstretched. On his chest is a badge that reads, "Chaz," in fine, dark cursive. He looks to be around twenty-two.

I compliantly pull out my ticket, and attempt to give it to the guy, but he doesn't take it. "No, I'm sorry," Chaz says, "I only need to see theirs." He raises his dark eyebrows in a gesture toward Zelda and Malon.

Malon furrows her brow. "Why's that?"

Chaz grins, revealing blindingly-white teeth, and answers, "Well, with those pretty faces and bodies that nice, you two have just _got_ to be wild. . . And I can't trust the wild ones. So, tickets?"

Sheik and I make eye contact, and Malon and Zelda do the same.

"Are you hitting on us?" Zelda asks, putting a stubborn hand on her hip.

Sheik waves a hand in front of Chaz's face. "Dude—that's my girlfriend." He glares scarlet eyes at him.

"Who? Blondie? Honestly you two look related—"

"Me," Malon interjects, wrapping an arm around Sheik's waist.

"Oh. What about you then?"

"Hmm?"

"You got a boyfriend?"

Zelda bites her lip. "Y-yeah!" She scurries over to me, meets my eyes awkwardly, and throws her arm around my waist. Playing along, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "He's my boyfriend," she says.

I am internally giddy right now.

"So I guess we'll be going," Zelda announces.

Chaz frowns, sighing, tossing dirty looks at both me and Sheik. "That's too bad, you know." He looks back at Zelda, almost longingly. "You look like a model."

"And you look like a mannequin who just came to life," I shoot back. "Quit hitting on them."

We leave, eventually arriving at a line where someone who is actually supposed to take your tickets does so. As we wait, Sheik and Malon turn to the two of us. "He's not here, you know," Sheik says. "You can let go."

Zelda and I share a look, then realize we've been holding each other this whole time. Awkwardly, frantically, we release.

Malon smirks. "Can't keep your hands off each other, huh?" We both shoot her a glare.

"Right this way," beckons the lady at the head of the line. We reach her, give her our tickets, and are allowed admission into the Lakeside Museum of Hylian History.

While exploring Malon dragged Zelda off to an unknown location, probably to browse the gift shop, leaving me and Sheik wandering aimlessly about the building.

Until we arrive at the Zora exhibit.

Sheik's lip quirks upward mischievously, and he turns to look at me with an excited twinkle in his eye. "Watch this." Giddily, he hops over the velvet rope partition.

My eyes widen. "What are you doing?!"

"Lighten up, Link," he calls over his shoulder, stopping before a giant pair of cymbals resting atop a podium. He clears his throat, lifts the brass instruments, pauses, then smacks them together.

_CRASH__!_

Every attendee's eyes dart toward Sheik and me. He stands there, placing the cymbals back on their podium, looking proud of himself. I, meanwhile, am flushed, my hands jammed into my pockets and shoulders tense in apprehension.

Of all people, Chaz comes over to us. He stops, thrusts a finger toward the cymbals, and glares at my friend. "Sir, that instrument happens to be a nine-hundred-year-old relic, which hasn't been sounded since Master Piryus of Zora hit it back in 1593."

Sheik blinks at him. "Your girlfriend is a nine-hundred-year-old relic which hasn't been sounded since Master Piryus of Zora hit it back in 1593." He reaches over to give me a high-five, which I return with similar enthusiasm.

Chaz narrows his eyes, seething from the roast he just endured. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Sheik shares a look with me. ". . .I can't _begin_ to imagine why."

Pointing an accusative finger at the both of us, he says, "One more disturbance, of any degree, and security will have to deal with you."

As Chaz struts away with an air of pretentiousness, Sheik turns to flash me a mischievous grin. "Link?"

I groan in apprehension, not taking a liking to his newly-inspired and eager countenance. "What. . ."

"Let's weak havoc, shall we?"

* * *

We do just that, as Malon and Zelda obliviously browse the gift shop. I had been reluctant at first, but seeing Sheik jump atop the shoulders of a bulbin statue made it look fun. Very fun. In fact, I jump right on top of the bulbin statue right next to his. As the pair of us sit there, eyeing one another with a collectively mischievous mood, I feel a sudden urge of excitement. The feeling you get when you have fun doing something wrong, and it's so fun that you don't care if it's wrong.

That's our mindset as we hop down from the bulbins' shoulders, having marked it down in our mental checklist of things to "wreak havoc" upon, giddily darting to our next target.

The loftwings. These large replicated birds are connected to mechanisms that spin them in a circle while simultaneously elevating and lowering. Sheik immediately hops onto the back of a green loftwing replica, and it surprisingly holds his weight, and Sheik hollers with joy as he soars the fifteen-or-so feet into the sky.

I grin, then follow his lead onto a crimson-colored loftwing. Looking down upon the ground at the peak of the replica bird's ascent, I notice out the corner of my eye another museum docent coming to patrol the sky exhibit.

"Yo, Sheik!"

"What's up?—_we_ are!" He turns his head to shoot me a grin. "Get it?"

"Security's coming."

"Shoot. Let's ditch these pterodactyls." He hops off once at a safe distance to the ground, and I do the same.

"Hey!" shouts the docent from behind us.

"Come on, bro," Sheik says with a laugh, grabbing my arm as we break off into a run.

We book it out the sky exhibit, then turn a sharp corner into the twilight exhibit, ducking and hiding behind a large Sheikah stone as the docent races past us. Sheik peeks over the stone. "Coast is clear. Let's keep going."

We do that, eventually meeting up with Zelda and Malon in the gift shop, bored after having messed with everything in the twilight exhibit. "Where have you two been?" Malon asks, putting her hands on her hips and glowering at us.

"We heard security is looking for a pair of teenage guys who are causing trouble," says Zelda. She squints suspiciously. "Would you know anything about that?"

Sheik scoffs. "Pfft, no. We. . . were in the island exhibit. The whole time." I nod to this statement in agreement.

We're met with narrowed eyes. "Likely."

A hand grips my shoulder firmly; I turn around to be met with Chaz's orange face. "Looks like we have a problem, don't we?"

I smirk. "The fact that I'm with your dream girl?" I send Zelda a grin.

Chaz's expression of bravado falters as he replies, "How do you even get a girl like that anyway? She's so out of your league."

"Maybe. But you're in the little league."

"Wow. Good one," Chaz grunts sarcastically. "Did you write that in your little diary of jokes?"

"My only diary is the book of world records."

"World record: 'Biggest Tool'—this guy." He points a finger to my chest.

Zelda tosses an arm around my waste, leaning her head on my shoulder. "You aren't wrong," she says, smirking and raising her eyebrows suggestively.

It takes him awhile to get it, but when he does, Chaz cringes. "Ugh!—I don't want to picture that!"

Malon, Sheik, Zelda and I laugh as Chaz turns to look at the door. Three security guards enter the gift shop, and the young docent turns to send me a smug look. The biggest guard restrains me, the next biggest one taking Sheik. Out of compassion I choose not to fight back.

"Looks like your boyfriend's coming with us, sweetheart," Chaz says with a grin to Zelda, winking at her.

Zelda takes two steps toward him, then slaps him square in the face. Malon busts out laughing.

"Ow!" he yelps, touching the pads of his fingers to his red cheek. "What the hell?—guards, take them too."

The last guard gets Malon and Zelda, each of whom restrained by one arm. With a spring in his step, Chaz leads the way to the museum curator's office.

* * *

"Name?"

"Zelda."

"Full name, please."

"Zelda Harkinian."

The curator types the aforementioned name into his computer. "Can't believe you slapped my son."

I snort. "That's your son?"

The ironically-professional-looking man turns to face me, nodding, not a look of amusement expressed by his countenance. "Yes."

"Your son's a bitch," Sheik says bluntly.

"Now we know why he has this job," comments Malon.

With a sneer, I say, "You really should thank her for slapping that spray-tanned douchebag. Zel—show him your hand. It's orange."

"Okay, I've heard quite enough," the curator grumbles. He looks at his computer, then back at Zelda. "Looks like you've got a history of troublemaking in my museum."

"Looks like you've got a history of broken condoms," Sheik retorts gruffly, pointing to a framed picture of the curator and his son.

"How do I have a history here?" Zelda asks, brushing past Sheik's crude remark.

"It says here that at the age of five, a little blonde girl by the name of Zelda Harkinian knocked down the loftwing contraption."

"What?!" everyone exclaims, flashing her incredulous looks.

Zelda looks from me to Sheik to Malon, wide-eyed, before saying, "I don't even remember that!"

"No way," Malon says. "That was—gods—twelve years ago. I was here, too! I used to come here every weekend, and I remember seeing it get knocked down, but I didn't know it was you!"

"That's pretty awesome," Sheik comments with a smirk.

"How did she even knock it down, anyway?" I ask the curator. "It seemed pretty sturdy—"

"—When _you_ were riding on top of it? Yeah, we've made some changes to the contraption."

Malon and Zelda send glares our way, knowing we lied about our whereabouts. "This is why we're in here?!" Malon demands.

"Because you two rode the loftwings like little kids?!" Zelda shakes her head in disdain.

"At least _we_ didn't knock it down," I say.

"I still don't think I did that."

"Well, you did. According to the file, you broke off the horn of a paper mache wooly mammoth, then flung said horn in an upward trajectory, knocking down the brown loftwing, causing the whole contraption to spiral out of balance and tip over. Your mother even signed you out, right here: Autumn Stryker."

Zelda freezes. ". . . What did you just say?"

The curator repeats, "Your mother signed you out."

Silence. Out the corner of my eye I notice Sheik and Malon tense up; Sheik especially. I haven't yet caught on to the situation.

"M-my mother died when I was very young," Zelda explains to the curator in a small voice.

Sheik puts his phone to his ear, mumbling as Zelda and the man converse. "Are you in town? Yeah? Good—come to the museum. We're in the curator's office."

The curator sighs. "I don't know what to tell you. The box next to _'Mother'_ was checked when asked of her relationship to you."

I look over at Sheik, who stares at the ground, eyes wider than ever in complete dismay. I finally, finally catch on to his and Malon's behavior, and my jaw drops in shock.

"What did you say the name of Zelda's mother was again?" I ask the curator.

"It was. . . Autumn Stryker."

Now it's _Zelda's_ eyes that widen drastically.

"Uh, _Sheik_," I begin slowly, nervously. ". . .That's your mom's name, right?"

* * *

"Are you the mother of this young lady?" the curator asks Ms. Stryker, gesturing toward Zelda.

The woman tenses up, eyeing Zelda sorrowfully. "Z-Zelda, dear," she begins, addressing the young girl's dismayed expression, "I. . . have some things to tell you."

Zelda doesn't reply; her face remains the same throughout Ms. Stryker's speech. Taking a pained breath, the woman steadies herself, then begins.

"A long time ago, I was married to a man named Gaepora. Some time after I found out I was pregnant with his child, we got a divorce—during court I lost custody of our child, who was not even _born_ yet, because I was unemployed and financially unstable. I had our daughter in September, then was heartbroken when she was taken away from me. But she would be happy with Gaepora and the woman he met who would replace me as my daughter's mother.

"I was so distraught afterwards that I got reacquainted with the lawyer, Philip, who represented me in court. We, um. . . We got carried away, and I ended up getting pregnant again, very soon after my first child was born. In June I had a baby boy, named him Sheik, and Philip and I were engaged.

"When Sheik was twelve, I got my second divorce. Luckily the fifty percent of Philip's money provided me with enough financial stability to support Sheik while working a decent job on the side.

"Zelda, as you now know. . . you were my first child. It wasn't me, your biological mother, who died when you were so young. That was your stepmother. Gaepora's wife." Ms. Stryker inhales then exhales slowly. "Zelda, I'm your mother."

I look at Zelda, who stares blankly at the floor. I look over at Sheik, whose hands cover his face in complete disbelief. Quite surprised myself, I take a very deep breath. I tap his knee lightly, then whisper to him the only thing that comes to mind at this very instant.

"Dude, you called your half-sister hot."


	14. Prophet

**A/N: Link can jump?! Link can rock climb?! Link can use an iPad thing?! But what kind of cheesy-ass name is Breath of the Wild?! (The new Wii U/NX Zelda game btw.) But DANG it looks so good I wanna scream. But I won't.**

**My motivation has been found—sitting out in the summer weather while blasting some J. Cole really puts me in a good mood. Hope my fellow Americans out there had a good fourth. I know my pets didn't. If you aren't American, uh. . . hope you had a good Monday.**

**Thanks to chapter thirteen reviewers: Immortal Fierce Dragon, spade-of-hearts, Shadelz5665, ZJohnson, GlamAngel3766, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, HashtagJeMa, TheChargingRhino, DemonKingGanondorf, lemoncookies53, prowessMaster44, luisAM21, nintendoer27, Immortal Fierce Dragon, and all those awesome guest reviewers! I appreciate the warm welcome back, y'all.**

_**Last time in Hyrule. . .**_

_**Our buddy Link was met with some haunting news: M.O.D. gang lord Ganondorf is the descendent of the demon king, Demise. Meaning, Ganondorf bears the one-and-only Triforce of Power. But, restless and exhausted, Link takes a much-needed vacation. (What a true hero.) After arriving and spending the night at Sheik's childhood home in Lakeside, Link, Zelda, Malon, and Sheik take a trip to the museum, where they meet a flirtatious docent named Chaz. The docent tries to hit on Malon, who declares Sheik as her boyfriend, and then Zelda, who declares Link as hers. Shut down, Chaz vows for revenge on the two dudes. Link and Sheik proceed to "wreak havoc" on the exhibits, allowing Chaz to send them and their female companions to the curator's office. There, the curator reads Zelda's file, and Zelda finds out that her birth mother was Ms. Stryker, Sheik's mother. Zelda and Sheik are half-siblings.**_

**Buckle up; eventful chapter.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 14: Prophet**

* * *

Saturday, November 4th

"Did I hear what I thought I heard?"

"What did you think you heard?"

"What you said to Sheik."

"And that was. . . ?" I drawl out, intentionally playing dumb.

"That—that Sheik said I was hot."

I flinch, but she doesn't notice. "Uh. . . That doesn't ring a bell."

Zelda squints her eyes, too confused by recent events in order to catch my blatant lie. "Well I would hope not," she murmurs meekly, rolling over onto her back, hands lying on her stomach as she stares at the ceiling.

I turn to face her, looking into her sapphire eyes. "E-even if he did," I begin, "I mean, he wouldn't have known you two were. . . you know." I try defending him while consoling her.

Zelda nods despondently.

"Knowing that would be an instant de-rection," I jeer. She laughs quietly. I prop myself up on my elbow, looking downward at Zelda as she lies beside me. "And since Sheik didn't know, it shouldn't matter if he did say that about you, since that's what everyone else says."

She turns her head quickly to meet my eyes. "Everyone else?"

I freeze, having misspoken, despite the fact that it was the truth. I now realize how that sounded to her. ". . . Y-yeah," I admit, finding no way to lie my way out of my previous words. "Well, of course they'd say that."

Zelda blinks twice, then gives a small smile. She sits up in the bed, reaches out, and kisses me lightly on my lips. With one more smile sent my way, she lies back down, back turned to me.

I just sit there, dumbfounded, eyes incredibly wide in utter shock. She _kissed_ me. Zelda kissed me. Blinking in surprise, I fall back down onto the bed, my eyes staring up at the ceiling, still dismayed beyond comprehension.

* * *

"I can't believe you took me here," Zelda's sweet voice says, arm wrapped around my waist.

"Anything for you, Zel."

We stroll down the beach, the breeze dragging our hair in its gentle wake. The sun begins to set, painting the horizon in a rich, citrus hue as the seagulls hovering overhead call for food. I reach into my pocket and withdraw a ripened pear, tossing it generously toward the hungry birds.

We stop, bare feet planted into the soft grains of sand. I run a hand through Zelda's blonde hair, looking deep into her eyes as she looks up lovingly into mine. "I love you," she says, before bringing her lips up to meet mine.

This moment could not be more perfect, I muse, as the sun falls beneath the horizon. Just perfect.

Night falls as we sit upon a rock overlooking the sea. My hand rests on her knee, hers atop mine. I sigh contentedly, at peace. Nothing could be better than this moment, tranquil and serene.

But the moment shatters.

Out of nowhere, gargantuan hands grip Zelda's shoulders, roughly throwing her backward. She yelps; my heart wrenches.

"Zelda!" I whip my head around to be met face-to-face with—of all people—my archenemy, the abhorred Ganondorf Dragmire himself. He towers over me as I scramble to my feet, my eyes murderously wild as adrenaline pumps through my veins.

He bellows a malicious laugh, grinning evilly at me as Zelda struggles to get up not too far behind.

"_Protect her,_" orders a wispy voice, belonging to no nearby figure. "_Protect her_."

I look around in confusion. No one is here but the three of us: Link, Zelda, Ganondorf. Where could it have come from? Shaking my head vigorously to clear my mind, I set my eyes on Ganondorf's looming figure, baring my teeth viciously.

I take the voice's advice to heart, lashing out unrelentingly at the gang lord. He took my beloved uncle away from me. Now, he attempts to take my love. Every ounce of emotion left in my body is poured into my efforts to detain him, to strangle him, to kill him. Yet, my attempts are to no avail.

With a quick, sweeping backhand, Ganondorf sends me flying toward the shore, where my body skids in the sand. I grunt and wince, blinking to clear the grains out of my eyes.

The voice returns: "_Protect her_!"

"_I'm trying_!" I scream in frantic reply, forcing myself to my feet and breaking out into a full sprint toward my love. I run, feeling my muscles tire but I ignore them, focusing on one thing and one thing only and that's_ getting to Zelda!_

But it is futile.

Ganondorf lifts Zelda's scrambling body up, and, slinging her over his shoulder, disappears in a plume of black smoke. And that's it.

I collapse, my world crashing down around me, as tears well up in my eyes and I grip the sand in my white-knuckled fists. I failed; I could not protect her. Sick with myself, I force my eyes shut and fall back onto the beach, releasing a cry of agony.

The hopeless sound of Zelda calling my name hauntingly rings in my ears.

* * *

Sunday, November 5th

I gasp for air, wiping the sweat off my forehead. Morning sunlight peaks through the window shades and spills into the guest bedroom, and I squint to protect my eyes. Turning my head to the left, I look for Zelda deliriously—she isn't here.

Frantically leaping out of bed, I barge out the door, searching the next room and coming up short. I bound down the stairs into the first floor living room, heart pumping. Then, experiencing the utmost relief, I discover Zelda sitting with Malon and Sheik at the kitchen table.

I sigh heavily, closing my eyes and holding my head to fight an upcoming headache.

"Link?" calls Malon's concerned voice. ". . . Are you okay?"

It was just a dream. Just a dream. Zelda is okay. Ganondorf doesn't have her. You do. You have her here, safe and sound.

_She's safe_, I mentally tell the voice from my dream. Thankfully it doesn't return for a reply.

"I—I'm fine," I murmur, running a hand through my dirty blonde hair while blinking the sleep out of my eyes.

"Gods, Link, you look like you haven't slept in a year," Malon comments.

I notice the two half-siblings have been abnormally quiet this morning, each inattentively looking my way and not bothering to contribute to the conversion. That's understandable. I expected awkwardness.

With a shrug, I admit, "I didn't get the best sleep last night."

"Relatable," Sheik mutters idly, drawing a glare from Zelda.

"Was the new information _just that_ horrible?" she asks him, irked.

"No, I—"

"Because it doesn't really bother _me_ that much—" Zelda pauses. "—aside from the fact that _you called your half-sister hot_!"

"Link—" He turns, sending me a frantic look. "What the hell?!"

I shake my head back and forth, head swimming, grimacing at the pain in my temples. Something makes my heart ache, and my mind sore. Unable to put my finger on it, I fall back onto the expensive sofa, holding my head in pain.

"Link?" calls a voice from the kitchen.

I lie there, looking up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly as my friends rush into the living room, concerned for my condition. Blurred figures, identifiable as Sheik and Malon, stand above me, looking on as Zelda rushes to my side. Struggling to keep consciousness, I focus on Zelda's bright blue eyes.

I inhale sharply, repetitively, gasping for air like a lost space cadet. "Link! Link! Are you okay?" Zelda's frightened voice calls distantly as I begin to fade.

Spots appear in my vision. "Link, breathe slowly. Listen to me. Breathe."

_. . . Breathe_. I try to take the advice, and gradually the pain in my head and chest subsides until I am fully aware. With a steadying breath, I blink once more, and I can see just fine.

Sitting up slowly, I look around, noticing my friends' concerned faces as I wipe a bead of sweat from my brow. Zelda sits directly in front of me, knees on the sofa, hands on mine. And, acting on instinct, I pull her close to my chest and hug her tightly, and she returns it. "Z-Zelda, you're okay," I murmur quietly.

"O-of course I am," she whispers, a little taken aback. "I was worried about_ you_."

I'm still shaking from my recent breakdown of whatever sort. I literally haven't any idea what that was. And I'm scared.

"Link, I—" Sheik pauses. "I think you had an anxiety attack," he comments slowly.

I fix him with a puzzled look. Anxiety attack? Me? But. . . I've never had anxiety problems before, even after experiencing traumatic events. How could I have gotten one, then?

I look at Zelda, and as she gives me that worried look, it sparks a memory. My dream last night. Seeing her triggered the attack. I am quite sure of it.

I was afraid she was in danger.

Protect her, the voice had said. But. . . she's safe. So why did I have such a dream? Perhaps it was prophetic—I pray to the gods it wasn't prophetic. Hopefully it was just a warning of some sort—but of what sort?

Zelda pulls her head back to look at me. "Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"

"I'm okay. I think it was a one time thing." I send her a small smile for reassurance.

"Sure hope so," Malon says.

My eyes haven't left Zelda's. All I see when I look at her is that terrified face of hers, as she is being taken off by my nemesis, who I've sworn—and _failed_—to kill.

I pull her close and kiss her, lovingly, much to the surprise of Malon and Sheik. Zelda returns it, albeit more confused and worried about my wellbeing. I hold onto her tightly, as if I might have actually lost her.

Malon and Sheik step away, half-surprised, but wisely giving us this moment, anyway.

* * *

"The search for the green-clad suspect dubbed 'Hero' nears its one-month mark. Authorities believe he is targeting gang members, for unknown motives, and using excessive force. He is a threat to the public, and is armed and dangerous. If you have any information, you're advised to call—"

I flip the channel.

"This Hero guy—he's not the police, he's not a fireman—what gives him the right to interfere with other people's business?"

_Flip._

"I think this Hero dude is misunderstood. People say he's terrorizing the streets, but he's going after gang violence! What's wrong with terrorizing a terrorist?"

_Flip._

"Hero is a menace that needs to be caught."

I shut the TV off, trying to relax. All this commotion from the townsfolk, when all I'm trying to do is avenge my uncle. I sigh. Restlessly, I dial up Shad's number to gain some much-needed information.

"Link, it's been a while."

"Shad, what's going on in Castle Town?"

He pauses, then speaks slowly: ". . . You should know, since you're_ here_—right?"

"Not currently," I admit.

"What kind of hero are you?"

"A good one. Shad, any activity? I've just got to know. It's killing me to be all the way out here."

"Surprisingly, no. It's been quite calm." He pauses. "Just where are you, though?"

"Lakeside, with my friends and g—" I cut myself off before I say the word _girlfriend._ Where had _that_ come from? ". . . W-with my friends."

"What's more important? Your friends or our mission?"

Taken aback by his sudden insensitivity, I scoff. "I need to get away _some_ time, Shad. Even my friends said I was working myself to death with this case."

". . . You're right," Shad sighs. "I'm sorry, Link. That was rude of me. You needed a break."

"Yeah."

"I've just been frustrated lately; no case has been this long—or this crucial—in my whole career as a detective."

"So. . . a whole week?"

"A month," Shad corrects. "Approximately."

I roll my eyes. "Your argument is irrelevant, then, bud."

"It's weird to think that nothing has happened lately," Shad muses, changing the subject. "Kinda makes me think something big is about to happen. Like it's the calm before the storm."

". . . Hope not," I mutter.

* * *

"C'mon, Dark, pick up your phone!" I growl as I'm repeatedly met with: _I'm sorry, the number you're calling is not available._

Believe it or not, I'm actually quite worried about Dark's safety. Normally he loves the opportunity to chat with me, with his choices of conversational topics ranging from political issues to which color smells the softest.

Yes, that was an actual conversation Dark tried having with me.

Regardless, Dark should answer his damn phone.

"Link?"

I look up from my FiPhone screen to see Sheik, having just come up the stairs into the top-floor living room. "Yeah?" I reply.

He cautiously takes a seat beside me on the red couch. "Two questions. . . . How you feelin'?"

"Fine, now."

"Good, good." He looks down at his lap, then back at me. "Also, since when did you start making out with my sister?"

I point a finger at him. "Bro—Don't play the protective brother card with me when you didn't even know she was your sister until yesterday." I pause. ". . . _Half_-sister."

He raises both his hands. "Okay, fine."

"Last night. She kissed me," I explain. "I think she was pretty emotional after finding out about her mother. So. . . she kissed me."

He sighs, "Wow." A pause. "What are you going to do about it?"

I freeze, having never thought about what's next. ". . . I don't kn—"

"Link?" asks Zelda's quiet voice from the doorway. She walks into the room, sees me and Sheik sitting there, and stops. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," states Sheik, getting up abruptly. "I was just going to go find Malon." He struts out of the room hurriedly, noticeably uncomfortable, and down the stairs, leaving me alone with Zelda.

We make eye contact. She smiles; I return it. "Are. . . are you feeling better?" she asks me, taking a seat beside me.

I look into her eyes. Seeing their deep blue color reminds me of the night sky, twinkling with stars. I nod. "Yeah."

"Good. . . . I was really worried," she admits. "I really do care about you, Link."

"I care about you too."

_Buzz._ . . _buzz. . ._

She smiles sadly, gaze falling. She takes a look at the end table, seeing my phone vibrate violently, repeatedly. ". . . Are you going to check that out?"

I shrug. "Might as well."

I pick it up, then read the screen. Instantly my eyes grow wide. "Uh oh."

"What?" Zelda asks, concerned.

"Fourteen new messages from Dark." I show her the screen. "I've been trying to get ahold of him all weekend."

I unlock the phone with the fingerprint scanner, then view the messages with trepidation.

_hero_

_or should i say LINK?_

_if th1s is u_

_and if u R th1s shad0w's fr13nd_

_c0m3 2 th3 war3h0us3_

_Th3 shad0w is WAITING_

_the corner of korok and 9th street_

_Hope u can make it ;)_

_U hav 4 hrs b4 he's D3AD_

_cl0ck is t1ck1ng_

_lord dragmires words himself_

_but i aint dragmire im a messenger_

_jus clearin that up_

_~ M.O.D._

"You'd think he could put that all into one message," I mutter. "Dammit! I knew I shouldn't have left! I knew Dark would try too hard to be a hero while I was gone. Now look at him—I knew it, _I knew it_! Dammit!" I stand up abruptly, running a hand through my hair and groaning. I stop, squinting in confusion. "How did he know Hero was named Link?"

"Can you call Shad to bring the police to the warehouse?" she asks me.

I think about that. _It would be a good idea to have backup. But in the unlikely event that Ganondorf is there, I'd want to kill him. The police can't be there for that_. ". . . No."

"Oh." A pause. "We have to go save him!" Zelda asserts, desperate in the eyes.

At this moment I freeze, looking at the floor. What she said had struck me. We have to go save him. We have to. _We._ . .

Is this what having a girlfriend would be like for me? Her trying to be by my side while putting herself in danger?

I take a deep breath. This is why I can't. I simply _can't._

"N-no, Zelda," I respond adamantly, not meeting her eyes. ". . . Stay here." I then turn to give her a serious look, implying my sincerity. She gazes at me, visibly hurt, as I steel my expression and look downward once more. ". . . Goodbye."

I turn and run.

* * *

So much for a vacation.

I now have around three hours and forty minutes after sprinting three miles into town and finding a taxi. "Castle Town, Korok and Ninth Street. Every red light you run is an extra five rupees," I'd told the driver.

From then on it's been smooth sailing. The two hour drive from Lakeside to Castle Town will have been nearly halved at the rate we're going, despite putting a dent in my small fortune.

Meanwhile I cannot stop thinking about Zelda. Saving Dark should be my priority, sure, but all I can think about is that the way I left her. . . it was hurtful. For the both of us. I could feel it.

This is how it's going to be, how it's going to end up. Hurtful. Somehow, someway, Zelda will be hurt. Whether in one circumstance it's me being harmed or killed and Zelda grieving—or worse, in the other circumstance it's _me_ grieving for _her__._

I've already grieved quite enough in this life. Why risk for more?

Just over an hour and a half passes, and somehow we make it to Castle Town with two hours to spare. Now, it's a good thing I'm early, so it'll give me time to break in without getting caught in the trap—because there's certainly a trap. If the M.O.D. wanted to kill Dark they would have killed him already; they're clearly baiting me.

Ganondorf wants me. Looks like we've got something in common.

"Korok and Ninth Street, mah boy," grunts the corpulent driver. I pay him the large sum of rupees, with a less-than-generous tip, then hurriedly exit the vehicle.

Scrambling to change into my Hero garb, I duck into an alley. Once I've altered egos, I frustratedly realize that I left my bags and belongings at Sheik's. Shoot. Maybe Zelda will bring them to me.

_Zelda._ I sigh sadly. There she is again, popping up randomly in my thoughts. Getting over her will be harder than expected. . . . I'm speaking as if we had broken up. In a way, though, that's what it feels like.

With a huff, I exit the alley, putting the dark mask over my eyes and pulling my long green cap over my head. For convenience, and common sense, I ditch the cape (which was _Dark's_ idea for us to have, anyway).

The warehouse, two-storied and long, sits predominately on Ninth Street, beside a club located on the actual corner of Ninth and Korok. Its brick exterior is aged, with moss growing up it in the alleyway, and every window is boarded up with scrap metal. The main entrance is a steel door in the center of the front wall. The whole building looks suspicious, and it's surprising the cops haven't busted the M.O.D. for squatting in it, but then again it could also look simply abandoned.

I try to find a good entry point. Sure enough, one of the window's sheet metal on the alley-side wall is bent in.

"And now for the moment I've all been waiting for," I say to myself, eagerly rubbing my hands together.

I head into the alley, look up at the second-level window, then jump. Thanks to my Triforce, I get three-quarters of the way there, find a foothold, then vault up to the window. I dangle from my hands on the ledge, then cautiously push in the sheet metal on the corner where it's bent. It bends more, until I hear an audible snap (thank the goddesses for my acquired strength). The sheet metal falls loudly onto the floor, and I hop in the warehouse.

On my toes, I expect someone to have heard that and come investigate. Surprisingly, no.

Having come in from the left window, I've landed on a wooden bridge-type-thing that hangs from the ceiling and borders the front wall. Crates stand to my left, and the front wall is to my right. Ahead of me, a figure sits dormant beside the crates in the other corner, the his eyes appearing to be closed.

It's eerily quiet, and I peer around the crates to look into the depths of the warehouse. It appears to be laid out like a Call of Duty map, with barricades strewn miscellaneously about. A large wall about halfway through the warehouse's full length conceals the remainder of the building's entirety.

Two unfamiliar men stand behind one barricade, visible from up here, and converse. "This trap better work, or we won't get that eight K."

"Relax. It'll work," the other man says. "All he has to do is break in through the front door. Do you even know who we're trying to trap?"

"I dunno. Based on the news, sounds like these guys have a feud with Hero."

_These guys_, he said. That means they aren't members of this gang; they were recently hired.

"I _hate_ that guy."

"Me too. His costume is so stupid."

I frown, whispering back stubbornly, "_You're_ stupid." Got him. I'm such a savage. Smirking in satisfaction, I continue listening.

"Dragmire arrives in ten minutes," one of them says. "Make sure he enters in the back. That's where his prisoner is. Plus, if he gets trapped in that electrical net, he would murder us."

_Dark is in the back. Alright, then._

_. . . They tried to catch me in an electrical net? Damn, no mercy._

"He's actually coming into this room through the cellar," replies the other. "Remember? He wanted to be here when the guy we're supposed to trap shows up."

"Then. . . did we leave the prisoner unattended?"

"Sakon's with him."

"Sakon's up there." The man points up at the opposite corner from where I am.

"Hrrngh?!" groans Sakon. I dart my head to look at him, but he's still asleep.

"Come on, we need to go to the prisoner."

"What about guarding this room until Dragmire gets here?"

"Sakon's got it."

"Hrrngh?!"

They leave, one taking a pistol and the other taking a sniper rifle. "My rifle's only got one round," he complains as they walk out.

Once the door shuts, and they're on the other side, I leap down over the walkway, dart around the barricades, and stop before the door. I try twisting the handle, but it's locked. "Dammit," I whisper.

Then, I remember Sakon. He must have a key.

I dart back over to where I was, this time to his corner, and climb up the stacked crates to get back onto the walkway. Sakon snores in his chair as I search his body for a key, but I come up short. Growing frustrated, I grip his shirt in my fist, yank him up, and drop him onto the crates I'd climbed up. He tumbles, grimacing, before sliding to the dusty floor, peeling his sleepy eyes open with a pained expression.

I hop down to the floor as he coughs audibly, rising to his feet. Chickens cluck loudly in a big wooden cage behind him upon sighting us. "Oh, it's you," he says. "What, uh, brings you here?"

"I've got two questions," I assert in an authoritative voice as he looks at me blandly. "The first—why do you have chickens?"

Sakon smiles, but his eyes lack emotion. "They're my pets." He turns to the cage. "This one is Jamal, this one's Annie, this is Franklin, Josiah, Roseanne, this one's Error—"

I shoot a small bolt of energy, aiming for his hand, but he yelps and jumps away. The bolt misses and splits one of the bars keeping the chickens inside. "Ah! Bad Hero," I exclaim as Sakon tries to run around me. I punch him square in the chest and he falls flat on his back, wheezing. I smirk to myself. "Good Hero!"

_Squawk!_

I turn around to be met with a swarm of chickens. "AAAGHH!" I yelp, smacking the vicious birds away with my arms as they peck and scratch me relentlessly. Then they all fly away, as I'm sure some of them earned a few injuries from my swings.

"Gahh!" I groan. Sakon uses this opportunity to pin me to the floor, lodging his elbow on my temple, restraining my arms, and putting his weight on me. "Ugh—" I look up at him. "What the hell is the matter with those chickens?"

Sakon smiles that emotionless smile again, replying, "They're angry. I only feed them cocaine. And chicken."

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" I ask incredulously.

"Watch your language."

"Fuck you!"

Sakon glares, reaching back for something I can't see. I take the opportunity to headbutt him, leap up, and kick him in the chest, sending him into the chicken cage. The bars split as he is propelled inside. "Gods," he says, fixing me with a puzzled look, "you're just a mean guy."

"I'm actually quite nice." I kneel down to be at eye level with him. "You're not as crazy as you were that day you shot up the Tri District."

". . . I had a little cocaine that day."

"Is this what you're normally like?"

"No," he says, smiling again, "I just popped a Xanax an hour ago." He closes his eyes and yawns, running a hand over his bald head. "Are you gonna kill me?"

"You're lucky I've got a soft spot, so I won't kill you. But if you don't do as I say you'll discover that I've got some hard spots too—" I pause, blinking. "That came out wrong. The point is do as I say."

Sakon chuckles, eyes still closed. "Whaddaya want."

_Gods, this guy is high out of his mind_. "I want the key to that door back there."

"Right on the chair where I've been sittin'," he answers slowly.

"Thanks for your cooperation." I stand up, then decide that Sakon should be kept under control. So, I find the biggest, heaviest crates possible, and push them to make them cover the broken side of the chicken cage, walling him off and trapping him in. Him being asleep again made it pretty easy to do.

Maybe I am pretty mean.

Oh well. I hop back up to the walkway, snatch the key from the chair, then hop back down. Taking a look at the key, I notice a crescent moon engraved on the top, the gang's symbol.

I walk toward the door, devising a plan for when I enter. Although, I don't even know what's on the other side. Shrugging, I decide to just wing it. That's seemed to work in the past.

I hear muffled voices suddenly. Pressing my back to a barricade, which is between me and the door, I seal my mouth shut and listen. The sound of a wooden door creaking open comes to my ear, and the voices suddenly get much louder, coming from behind me and to the right. Seemingly, beside the door I'm heading to.

"Aha, please," laughs the familiarly deep voice of a woman. "I can hold my own against him."

A scoff. "You sure couldn't last time," refutes a powerful voice.

My chest tightens, eyes widening. _That's Ganondorf, isn't it?_ Has to be; those goons even said he was coming.

Am I ready to kill him?

"I—Believe me, I can," the female assures him, taken aback.

"Really. Because a certain failed assassination comes to mind."

"He was moving around too much—"

"He isn't here," Ganondorf grumbles. "I'm tired of waiting. Tell the guards to kill the shadow."

"Y-yes, my lord."

Dark first. Ganondorf later. I keep my back glued to the crate, then freeze as a giant figure walks right beside me and past me, unaware of my presence. My heart leaps into my throat as I clench my teeth until they nearly shatter. Ganondorf, in his huge business suit, strides toward the front of the warehouse, a permanent frown set prominently on his ash-colored face.

My gaze lingers on his back as I fantasize about thrusting the giant nose of a marlin into it, seething in anger, before I tiptoe around to the other side of the crate and silently hurry to the door. I unlock it, slowly opening it to the other side.

Inside, crates are stacked immediately to the left and right of the door. Looking up, I see the bottom of another wooden walkway. In front of me, a chair sits in the middle of the room. In it, Dark sits with his arms chained behind him, legs chained to the floor, head pointed downward. One of the guards, gun in his hand, stands next to the chair, as the woman from earlier gives him the orders. I recognize the woman as Veran, the one who tried to assassinate me at Mikau's concert.

I hastily climb the crates, being careful not to attract attention. Once at the top, I leap up, reaching for the edge of the walkway. I grab the edge with both hands, then lift myself up—before remembering that there were _two_ guards.

"Hey—" he says, before I dash toward him, clamping a hand on his mouth and knocking the rifle out of his grasp. I spin and throw my elbow at his skull, and it connects with his temple with a hard smack. His eyes roll back and he collapses onto the wooden planks. I dust my hands off, looking down at him with disdain.

I look below, noticing that Veran is gone, and the guard is speaking to Dark. I dart over to the discarded sniper, pick it up and check the clip. One bullet. Swearing to myself, I shove the clip back into the rifle.

Turning my head, I notice wooden planks covering part of the concrete wall. Curiously, I rip the planks down, discovering a gaping hole that gives a perfect view to the other end of the warehouse.

Ganondorf stands in there with his back turned. Behind me, the guard raises his gun and points it at Dark. Two targets. One bullet.

Can I shoot Ganondorf and sprint down and get the guard? No. The guard will kill Dark first.

I have a choice, and I have approximately one second to make it. Kill the murderer of my uncle, or save my friend?

A gun is fired.

* * *

"It sounds that the deed is done, my lord," announces Veran smugly. Ganondorf gives her no answer. ". . . Hello? My lord?" Still no answer.

I drop the gun, my eyes wide in horror. I had never shot a gun before, or even a _person,_ no less.

"Relax, Veran. I live," says Ganondorf's voice from the other side.

I'd made my choice. With a trembling body, I leap down to the first level, hurrying over to Dark. The guard lies next to him, clutching his arm in pain, still alive, but barely holding onto consciousness. I leave him like that, but must make haste. It won't be long before Veran or Ganondorf hears him.

"Dark, where are the keys?" I ask him.

"He has 'em," Dark says, gesturing with his head toward the guard.

I find the keys on his belt, take them, and free Dark from his shackles. "Let's go."

"I'm sorry, Link."

"For what?"

"Being a failure."

"Well, what's new?"

"How hilarious."

"Jokin', bud," I tell him with a grin. "Don't beat yourself up. That's Ganondorf's job."

"No kidding," he agrees, showing me his bruised face and blackened eyes, which he's been trying to hide from me.

"Gods," I comment idly. ". . . I could've killed him, you know."

He sighs. "Should've."

"You wouldn't have survived if I used my bullet on him."

"Bring more bullets next time, then, dumbass."

I chuckle. "Same old Dark."

"Even darker now," he says amusedly, showing me his black eyes again. "Link, you saved me."

"Lil' bit," I reply with a shrug.

"You know what this means?" he asks. "I owe you my life."

"Yeah, no thanks. I've seen it and I'm not too impressed."

Dark rolls his eyes.

I jog to a boarded-up window, Dark in tow, and kick in the sheet metal. It pops right off, and we squeeze through and out it.

"Call your detective," Dark orders. "Get the police here to get Ganondorf."

"No," I reply a little too quickly. "I want him for myself."

Dark nods affirmatively. "Alright, then."

The moon hangs prominently in the night sky, surrounded by the smaller, scattered-about stars, spilling blue light upon the two of us as we slowly trek up the sidewalk.

* * *

I check my watch—10:42 PM. It won't seem like a booty call, right? I go for it anyway, and knock on Zelda's door.

"Who is it?"

"Link," I answer.

"No."

I blink, taken aback. Did it seem like a booty call? It probably did. I knock on her door again. "I just want to talk to you." No answer. "Zel, come on."

"No."

I sigh, defeated, turning my back. Why had I even come here? I thought I told myself to quit advancing things with Zelda. Although, I can't manage to get her out of my head, nor could I stop my feet from bringing me to her door earlier tonight.

Should I give in to temptation?

My heart says yes but my brain says no, and I say yes but I also say no, and I've just been so. . . _confused._ I don't know how else to put it.

But, for now, I'm doing what my heart wants, and what my conscience feels is necessary. I'm going to talk to her. I feel like I owe her at least an explanation for my recent actions.

So I exit the females' dorm building, and take a walk—to the side of the building. There, I look seven windows left, and four up, and see Zelda's window. Time for a late-night workout.

Whoa, _not_ how it sounds, folks. I meant that I was about to climb up to her window.

I take a few steps back, then break off into a full sprint toward the wall, leaping up, finding a foothold on the windowsill, vaulting up, and repeating twice more, until I arrive at Zelda's.

Luckily for me, it's open. "Coming in!" I announce, crawling into her room as Zelda yelps.

I tumble to the floor, look up, and see Zelda pointing her hairdryer threateningly at me. I blink. Putting both hands up, I say, "Don't shoot. I'm unarmed."

She throws the hairdryer at me, and it collides with my face painfully. "Ow!—okay, I deserved that. But Zelda, please let me—" I stop, catching sight of her face. Her nose is pink, eyes are slightly puffy, mascara subtly smeared. She had been crying.

"W-what?" she asks in a small voice.

I immediately stand up and walk over to her, pulling her into a tight hug. She is hesitant, but returns it. My hands run along the soft silk of her shirt as she does the same with mine. "Zel, I'm really sorry."

She sniffles. "What for?"

"Abandoning you on our vacation, and not letting you come with me."

"That rings a bell."

I pull away, looking deep into her eyes, wiping a lone tear from her cheek with my thumb. "I'm sorry."

"Dark's okay, right?"

"Yes."

"Then it's fine."

I sigh. "Zelda, I'm going to be honest. . . . I've been really confused lately."

She nods, understanding. "It shows."

I smile, then it fades. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. It's just something I can't stop myself from doing."

"What about?"

Shaking my head, looking away, I merely reply with: "Myself, my feelings, and what I aim to do." I can't bring myself to tell her that I'm having doubts about the two of us.

She squints, noticeably confused, but decides against pressing the matter. "Um. . . Okay," she says, then pauses. "Do you want to stay over? Your bags are already here, since you left them at Lakeside."

"You brought them?"

She nods, smiling.

I return the smile, looking down. "Well, um, won't Karane come by?"

Zelda shakes her head. "No, she's been staying with Lulu lately, keeping her company." Her eyebrows raise. "Is that a yes?" she asks hopefully.

"Yeah," I reply, grinning, "I'll stay over." Her face lights up, and she reaches up on her toes, and kisses me lightly.

As my mind chastises me, my heart leaps for joy.

* * *

Monday, November 5th

"So you left, huh?" Sheik asks me in the front row of Mr. Lux's history class.

"I figured that you were having some family bonding to do," I reply with a sly smirk.

Sheik frowns. "Do you know how freakin' awkward it is with me 'n Zelda now?" He shakes his head, looking down. "Ever since you told her what I said back then."

"I didn't _tell_ her; she _heard_!"

"Whatever. I still can't believe you abandoned me."

"Sheik, I—" I exhale slowly. "Dark was in trouble."

"What?"

"I had to go save him," I explain. "That's what made me leave."

"Wait, hold up. How was he in trouble?"

". . . The M.O.D. held him hostage."

"What? Why?"

I shrug, despite knowing the answer. I'm still going to protect Dark's secrets. "What can I say? They're thugs."

The bell rings, and we're dismissed from second period. Sheik and I exit the classroom, then wait for Mido and Mikau, who are always slower due to sitting in the back. When they emerge from the sea of outpouring students, they greet us sleepily, having been seemingly dozing off in class.

"Link," Mido says, "did your nose get hit?"

Confused, I touch my nose, feeling a bruise along the bridge. Then I remember Zelda. "Oh, yeah, just. . . a. . . hairdryer incident."

"Uh, alright."

Mido and Sheik head off to Mr. Masca's class, leaving me and Mikau to head to Ms. Spirit's math class.

"Link," says a voice from behind me. Mikau and I turn to see Zelda, holding her math book to her chest and looking up at me. "I, um, want to talk to you before class starts."

Mikau claps a hand on my shoulder, saying, "Don't worry, bro, I'll leave you be," and heads off.

"Catch you in third," I say. I turn to Zelda. "What's up?"

"Do you like filet mignon?" she asks randomly.

I blink. "W-what's a flaming yawn?"

Zelda giggles, "That's so cute! Oh my gosh, you are so Ordonian." She tries to contain her laughter as she only sees my thoroughly-confused expression. "Say it with me: fill-ay min-yawn."

"Fill-ay min-yawn," I repeat.

She nods, still grinning. It's actually pretty adorable. "Filet mignon."

"Filet mignon."

"It's a type of steak. My dad's cooking it tonight."

"Why couldn't you just say steak?" I ask.

"Because it's a certain type of steak," she answers, giggling again. "Anyway, my dad's cooking it tonight and I'm wondering if you'd like to join us. I'm not much of a meat eater, but—"

"Well _that's_ unfortunate!" interjects Pipit, eyebrows raising suggestively, walking by at the worst possible time. Zelda shoots him a death glare as he walks away with a proud grin on his face.

"—but I figured you'd enjoy some. . . flaming yawn." She smiles warmly, teasingly.

"I'd love to join you," I say before I can stop myself.

"Great!" she exclaims, face lit up.

My heart is ecstatic, but my mind races, recurring thoughts of doubt and confusion constantly plaguing my mind—

Link, _what are you doing?!_


	15. Coward

**A/N: Whaddup, my people?**

**VOTE IN MY POLL—it's about my next project. After I complete this, obviously.**

**Thanks to chapter fourteen reviewers: DemonKingGanondorf, Xenotize, prowessMaster44, luisAM21, ZJohnson, HashtagJeMa, TheChargingRhino, CowTits The Udderly Glorious, Lerco, and those guest reviewers out there! I'm sendin' y'all my telepathic fist-bumps.**

**_Last time in Hyrule . . ._**

**_. . . was a bit depressing. Hoop and holler all you want about Zelda kissing Link, but all that led the young lad to do was become confused. Heart battling his mind, Link struggled to figure out if he should be with Zelda, or avoid her to keep her out of danger. This led him to have a dream of Ganondorf taking Zelda away from him. The next morning, Link saw Zelda and had an anxiety attack, remembering his dream and worrying about her safety. Link later received cryptic text messages from Dark's phone, written by an M.O.D. member, telling him to come to an abandoned Castle Town warehouse, or Dark would be soon killed. Link rushed over, beat up Sakon, and, with one bullet in his gun, was torn between shooting Ganondorf or the guard about to kill Dark. He chose to save Dark, and the two fled. That night, Link visited Zelda's dorm, apologized for leaving her at Lakeside, and ended up spending the night there. At school the next morning, Zelda invited Link to dinner at her house with her father, and Link accepted, still having the conflict between his heart and mind._**

**These summaries are getting long. Though I guess my chapters are, too. Anyway, I'm predicting that I'm gonna make some readers mad this chapter. Nonetheless, read along and enjoy. Or, you know, try to.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 15: Coward**

* * *

Monday, November 5th

"Hey, Link," Zelda greets with a warm smile from inside her father's house. She pushes the door open further, revealing the interior of the home behind where she stands.

"Hi, Zelda," I respond with a grin of my own.

_You should leave._

"Come on in."

_Don't go in._

I must've hesitated, because she grabs me by the arm, playfully pulling me inside the home. The door closes, and I survey the interior. It's decently-sized, quaint, and rather nice. We stand in the living room, complete with a large television before a cream-colored sofa, some glass coffee tables, and a fireplace with a Hylian shield above it. In the back is a staircase, leading to the second floor. To our left appears to be the dining room, where a wooden table sits covered by a white sheet, six chairs surrounding it. A door is in the back of this room.

"My dad's in the kitchen," Zelda says, pointing to the door I'd been observing. "We can just wait in here." She smiles, her smooth fingers wrapping around my hand. She leads me to the sofa, then takes a seat.

_It's not too late to turn back._

I plop down beside her, still holding her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb against her soft skin. She looks at me with a warm smile, and I return it, then my gaze drops.

Zelda notices. "Link, are you okay?"

I meet her eyes, blink to show confusion, then nod. "Yeah," I answer half-honestly—heart says I'm fine, mind says I'm not.

"You're kinda spacey right now," she tells me with a brief smile. "It's . . . different."

I owe it to Zelda to tune out my mind. It's time to let my heart make the decisions. So, I look at her and sigh, "I'm sorry, Zel. I've just been thinking a lot."

Zelda nods. "I understand why that is. Do you want to talk to me about it?"

Not exactly, for obvious reasons, but I'll make something up that sounds reasonable. "Sure. . . . Remember when I went to go save Dark?"

She narrows her eyes at me. "You mean the time we were on vacation, I wanted to come with you, you rejected me, then ditched me?"

I blink. " . . . Y-yes?"

"Yeah, that rings a bell."

Biting my lip, I look at her awkwardly. Then I lean over and kiss her quickly. "Better?"

_You dumbass._

Ugh, come on. My mind still intervenes.

Zelda's cheeks flare pink at my unexpected move, and she looks away, abashed. " . . . A little."

"I thought you already got even with me for that."

"What do you mean?"

"You hit me with a hairdryer," I explain to jog her memory.

"Oh," she says through her giggles, then shrugs. "I don't regret it at all."

I push her shoulder lightly, playfully.

"So what about that day?" Zelda asks, curious now.

"Well, um . . ." I pause, trying to think about what to tell her. Honestly I could tell her anything about that day. _Maybe about trapping Sakon in the chicken cage? Nah, that makes me sound too mean. Oh! I got it_. "Remember those texts from Dark's phone?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, whoever the M.O.D. dude was who sent them—"_ Sakon? Veran? One of those two hired guards?_ "—knew my name, other than Hero. Do you know what this means?"

"That you can finally get rid of your weird street name?"

I scoff, eyes widening. "Hero? It's _not_ weird!"

"It shows the cocky part of you," she says with a humored smirk.

I shake my head, albeit still amused. "Oh, I'll show you the cocky part of m—" I stop; her eyebrows raise. "—That came out wrong. Ignore that."

Zelda laughs, and I can't help but doing so too. "Okay," she says, fighting giggles, "I'm sorry. What does it mean?"

"Well," I begin, smile gradually fading from my face, "whoever sent the texts had to have gotten my name from Ghirahim."

Zelda's mouth forms in an O-shape. "He attends the academy," she says, a look of recognition flashing across her face.

"Now he attends jail. Anyway, it means the M.O.D. can ask him for any information about me—like where I live and go to school." I look down. "If they come here . . . they could hurt people I care about."

"Well, well, well! If it isn't Link Gaiden," booms the familiarly-deep voice of the headmaster, entering the dining room from the kitchen. We turn around, looking backward from the sofa. "You know, I honestly thought Zelda would've invited Malon tonight."

I grin at him, remembering how friendly this guy is. Not your typical school authority. "Zelda didn't tell you who she invited?" I ask. Mr. Harkinian shakes his head in reply. "Well—what if she invited someone like, I don't know, Pipit Westbrook?"

Zelda smiles, and her dad rolls his eyes. "Ugh—_Please_, Link. You'll spoil your dinner."

We laugh. "You know him?"

"He's visited my office _quite_ a few times. And when he did, he would not stop staring at the photo of Zelda on my desk."

Zelda squints, a little confused at first, but then rolls her eyes in exasperation with our buddy Tidbit.

Mr. Harkinian continues: "Which is funny, because that's exactly what _you_ did, Link."

Heat rises to my cheeks. "Wait, what?" Zelda meets my eyes, clearly humored.

Her dad points a finger at me and laughs deeply. "Gotcha! Hah. Sorry, Link, I had to."

I chuckle awkwardly as Zelda rubs my hand with hers. Luckily, to end the awkward phase we've entered, of all things, a doberman tumbles into the dining room. It prances around the table, then the sofa, and then up to me and Zelda.

"Disco!" she exclaims, reaching to pet its head lovingly.

Meanwhile, my eyes widen, and I back away from the dog a little, remembering how vicious it was that night I first met it. I'd been following Ghirahim and Vaati when that was, and Disco did _not_ seem too happy to see me.

"Oh, don't be afraid—pet him!" Zelda coaxes, smiling at me.

I look at Disco, and he looks back. Then his lips curl back into a snarl, revealing his large, threatening teeth. I turn to Zelda. "Y'know, I'm good."

About twenty minutes later, the three of us sit at the dining table, Zelda and I side-by-side with Mr. Harkinian across from us. Before me, a hunk of brown meat sits on a white plate—which must be the fill-ay min-yawn—with silverware and a napkin on either side of it. Zelda and I each were given wine glasses filled with ice water, while her father's is filled with wine.

I eye the setup curiously, before seeing Zelda place her napkin neatly on her lap. I mimic her, not too familiar with proper dining habits. Back home, Rusl would simply toss everything in a bowl and say "Eat up, buddy!" before heading off to work at the ranch. Man, how things have changed since then.

Mr. Harkinian has already began digging into his steak, knife in his right hand, fork in his left. Taking note of this, I do the same with my silverware.

Zelda watches me curiously. "You've never eaten like this before, have you?"

I look at her. "How could you tell?"

"The fact that you're a boy, and your kind eats a lot in short amounts of time, yet you haven't started."

"I was learning by watching."

Zelda smiles. "Here, watch me."

Mr. Harkinian idly observes from across the table as Zelda shows me how to cut the flaming yawn—er, filet mignon. Cut with the knife in your right hand, pick it up with the fork in your left hand, then eat it. Obviously she does it with more delicacy than I do, but I'm quick to learn it. Then again, in the first place it isn't very _hard._

"I take it you've grown acquainted with Zelda, yes, Link?" Mr. Harkinian inquires.

My eyes meet his, brows raised, and I nod. "Yep. She and I are very good friends now," I answer without thinking.

Oh, shit. I shouldn't have said that. Zelda's smile falters, her gaze falls, and her brow furrows. That sounded like I was friend-zoning her.

"Well that's nice." He smiles genuinely, while Zelda does everything but that.

I recognize the urgent need to change the subject, so I ask her quickly, "How come you don't live here, since it's on campus?"

Her blue eyes meet mine. "Well. A lot of other people have lived in it before, since every headmaster is given this home once they get the job, and I didn't really like that. So once I was old enough to get into the academy, I decided to live in the dorm. It's great, because all my friends live in the dorms, plus I get the experience."

I nod, commenting, "Well, I think you made the right choice." She nods in agreement. Getting her talking seemed to have worked; maybe she's moved past my unintended friend-zoning earlier. For good measure, I place a hand on her knee and send her a smile, prompting her to look my way and reluctantly return it.

_Get that hand off and look away._

_Shut up!_ my heart roars back.

"So, Link," the headmaster begins, "I hate to bring up school-related affairs while you are our guest, but there has been something of late that I can't seem to figure out."

Piqued, I eye him questioningly. "And that is?"

He stares down at his meal with a pensive frown. "Surely, with today's the news, you've heard of the supposed criminal named Hero, correct?"

I can feel the tension in the air. Zelda's breath hitches, gaze falling. "Y-yeah," I answer. "What about him?"

Mr. Harkinian sighs. "He's supposedly a student of the academy."

"Really?" I ask, faking surprise.

"He wore a Hyrule Academy sweatshirt in the media's footage of him," he says.

"Well—" I bite my lip. "—maybe he picked it up somewhere and wore it to protect his identity," I suggest.

"Even if he did, that didn't stop several reporters from coming to the academy and asking me questions about him."

My eyebrows raise. "They did that?"

A nod. "He's been bringing negative publicity to our honored academy. I want to know if you know anything about this student-criminal, so I can have him expelled immediately."

_Shit._

"Do we have to talk about this now, Dad?" Zelda asks in accusative tone, clearly feeling the tension as well.

As Mr. Harkinian turns to his daughter to offer a response, I cut in: "I don't know of anyone who could be that guy."

"Alright," he says. "No worries, Link; I will have this handled."

The next few minutes is spent in silence, save for the clang of silverware against plates. I never knew how damn good filet mignon is; then again, it's rich people food, so it should be good.

About halfway through my steak, I ask Mr. Harkinian, "Do you think that Hero guy actually could be a hero, though?"

Under the table, Zelda kicks my leg lightly, as if to say_ Don't start this up again!_ I place my hand on her knee to assure her I know what I'm doing.

The headmaster, squinting in confusion, shakes his head slightly. "I think he tries too hard to be known, and his only purpose is to cause a ruckus and anger the police."

"Well maybe he's a guy trying to do what the police can't—"

"_Can't_?" Mr. Harkinian repeats, his eyebrows raising. "Chief Auru happens to be one of my greatest friends. If there is anything he can't do, he wouldn't be in charge of maintaining order in this city."

"The police couldn't get to the Tri District in time to stop that shooter, and the police couldn't stop the guy who shot down the helicopter, but Hero did," I tell him stubbornly.

I don't notice right away, but he's growing frustrated, and frankly, so am I. "Look, Link. I'm not the chief. But from what the chief _has_ told me, this '_Hero_'—he's a threat."

"I don't know why people don't even give him a _chance_—"

"I don't know why you are so passionate about this," Mr. Harkinian grumbles, forehead creased. "And I don't know why you keep defending him."

I blink, sending Zelda a look. She looks back, her countenance expressing nervousness and concern. Turning back to her father, I say in a quiet, innocent tone, "I-I'm an optimist. It's a habit for me to think anything's possible."

His frown doesn't leave his face, and he doesn't reply, eyes locked with mine.

Gaze falling, I sigh. Quickly, I say, "Thank you very much for the dinner, Mr. Harkinian. Excuse me for a moment." I stand up quickly, meekly avoiding eye contact before making my way toward the door.

"Now look what you've done," says Zelda's voice as the door shuts softly behind me. Letting my feet take me wherever they desire, I keep my eyes on the ground, carefree of my destination.

A frigid breeze passes through the air, causing me to shiver, the cold nipping at my bare hands and face. Pulling the hood of my blue jacket over my head, and putting on my gloves, I continue wandering.

I walk along the sidewalk until I get to the corner, then lean against the lamppost. I stand there in silence, occasionally searching the sky for a single star, but dark clouds had rolled in. No stars in the sky tonight.

"You didn't have to do that."

I turn my head, and there she is, with a white scarf wrapped snugly around her neck and a matching beanie over her blonde hair. Zelda comes closer to me and wraps an arm around my waist, sighing.

"I was trying to clear my name."

"I know," she says softly, "but I already tried doing that with him. It's difficult to change his mind once he believes something."

I meet her eyes. "Thank you for that."

"No problem," she says, smiling warmly. "I always got your back, Link."

I exhale deeply. Tilting my head back up toward the sky, I resume my search. Still nothing.

"You're still thinking, aren't you?"

I nod.

From around the corner, footsteps are heard, but the trees and foliage behind the sidewalk block whoever it is from view. I turn to Zelda, who looks toward the sound curiously. "Might not be dangerous, but stay behind me, okay?" She nods compliantly.

The person comes around the corner. Upon recognizing who it is, I freeze. "Well, well, well!" he says. "Ghirahim wasn't lying; you do go to his school."

_They know._

Running a hand over his smooth, bald head, the man grins devilishly. "You know," he begins, raising a finger, "I really should kill you for leaving me in a_ chicken cage_."

I reach back to touch Zelda's arm, silently letting her know to stay back. "Sakon," I say in a low voice. "I should kill you for coming here."

"But you won't," Sakon states matter-of-factly. "You're a hero, not a villain. You don't have the _heart_ to kill me."

His words sting, but they have some truth to them. I had let the warehouse guard live, the one who was going to kill Dark. "Maybe not, but I _do_ to kill your leader."

Sakon's lips stretch out into an emotionless smile. "Revenge, huh? How honorable. I like to think revenge governs all crime."

"I like to think greed does."

A pause. "Then will you get greedy, Hero?" Sakon withdraws a knife with what looks to be a five-inch blade. Behind me, Zelda gasps quietly, frightened. "Will you join me in a fight to the death?"

I do not answer, but hold my ground in order to keep Zelda safe.

Sakon tilts his head, locking eyes with her, emitting a mirthless chuckle. Looking back to me, he asserts, "Then I've got a little incentive for you." He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing small brown objects—four deku nuts.

Before I have time to react, he hurls them at me, and a blinding flash of white sends me to the ground, stunned. Deliriously, I attempt to stand up, ears ringing, spots appearing. Gradually, as I stumble to my feet, I regain my senses.

Sakon is gone. Urgently, I whirl around—only to be met with a harrowing sight.

"How about now, Hero? Want to try to kill me?"

Adrenaline courses through my veins as Sakon holds his knife to Zelda's throat. She tries ripping his arm away from her, but his grip is too strong.

"You don't need her," I say, baring my teeth, right fist clenched until it glows with heavenly light. "I'm the one you need." Zelda trembles with fear as I dare him, "Come at me."

Sakon's lip curls into a snarl, and, in an instant, pushes Zelda to his left and throws the knife straight toward me.

Reacting purely on instinct I grab the knife by the handle straight out of the air and hurl it right back where it came from. The blade strikes Sakon in the chest, lodges in the heart, and he cripples to the ground.

Thunder booms in the distance, and a flash of lightning torments the night sky.

I stand without moving, feet rooted to the same ground that a dead man lies upon. Mouth agape, eyes wide, I stare at the hand that performed the act, and realize that all heavenly light that had been emitting from it has vanished.

All this because I listened to my heart. Not my mind.

I turn and run. My feet carry me further and further away from the corner.

When the rush of adrenaline decreases and fatigue threatens to take over my legs, I slow to a stop at the vacant fountain in the academy courtyard. Placing my hands and leaning on the fountain's stone border, I force my eyes shut and release a strangled cry of agony. Chest tightening, my mind is racing, scolding me for letting my heart make the decisions, because _look where that got you!_

I sag to the ground and bury my face in my hands, the unforgiving night air now much colder. As I lean my head on my knees, my body trembles and my breathing is ragged as I try fighting another developing anxiety attack.

"Link," says Zelda's voice.

_Had she followed me?_ I don't lift my head. Silence ensues.

_Protect her. . . ._

"Zelda," I say quietly. Removing my hands, I look up at her slowly. She stands before me, appearing concerned, eyes wet with tears that threaten to fall. "We, um . . . we need to talk."

Rising to my feet, I take a deep breath, dreading what's next. I let my mind take control, exhale, and do what needs to be done.

"Zelda, I can't be with you."

And here it is. The conversation I've been dreading since October ninth.

Zelda, blinking back surprise, stares at me. "W-what?"

Ashamed, I shake my head. "Since my uncle died, I—I haven't allowed myself to have a girlfriend. . . . And I don't plan on changing that."

Zelda's gaze falls, and she stares down at the pavement with an incredulous expression. " . . . Is this—" She squints in confusion. "Is this a breakup?"

"Were we together in the first place?"

"Just about," she states with a nod, making it seem like it was obvious. "_One month_, Link. That's how long it took for you to make me fall in love with you."

Relentless waves of guilt wash over me as I look down in shame.

"You made me fall for you, and the whole time you never planned on making it last."

"Zelda, I love you," I assure her, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Then _why isn't that enough_?!" she demands, swatting my arm away, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why can't that _overpower_ your predetermined rule against committing?!"

I look deeply into her blue eyes, sincerely telling her, "I would rather die than to see you get hurt, Zelda. Truly." I pause, fighting tears of my own. "Powerful people are out to get me, and they could get to you."

She closes her eyes, shaking her head defiantly. "That shouldn't matter, though, right? You're _Hero,_ the city's protector! I've _seen_ you protect me! How hard am I to keep safe?"

" . . . I can't promise I'll keep you out of danger for the rest of your life."

"Wow," she murmurs. Her eyes close, and she inhales deeply, then exhales. When they open once more, they display a look of hopelessness and sorrow. "You know what I see from you, Link? Lack of care."

I squint in confusion, waiting for her to finish her thought.

"You don't think I've stuck by you this whole time, despite your flaws, your irrational decisions, your bad temper?" Zelda pauses. "Yet you choose not to stick by me. You don't _care._ You got me to fall in love with you without even thinking about committing."

"Zelda, it's not lack of care at all, it's being realistic," I say softly. "I'm sorry, but you're crazy if you think I haven't thought about it, or if you think I don't care for you."

"Love isn't realistic, Link," she says defiantly, shaking her head. "What happened to you being an optimist? Be optimistic about this!"

"I've learned that optimists get let down," I say—and it's a pain to say. "I was optimistic that my uncle would be with me forever. But I got let down." I take a deep breath. "Are you willing to risk your life to be with me?"

"Yes," she states affirmatively. "The problem is that you aren't."

"I'll risk _my_ life for _you_ without batting an eye, but I refuse to risk _yours_."

"That isn't up to you!" Zelda shouts, tears pouring out her sapphire eyes. "That should be my choice!" Shaking her head, she idly looks off toward the academy building. "You played me, Link. You got me to love you, messed with my feelings for a whole month, then dumped me. You're no better than Pipit."

It's silent between the two of us for the next few moments. I look down at the ground in shame, speechless, as Zelda tries to control her emotions.

"You know . . . I thought you were different. But you're just like everybody else."

With that, she leaves me where I stand, bitterly cold under the grim overcast of a starless sky.

* * *

Tuesday, November 6th

The phrase "love at first sight" seemed quite appropriate for my relationship with Zelda. Although, back then, I had simply refused to accept the fact that I had feelings for another so soon after my uncle was ripped away from me. And, as time went on, it would be likely for me to "move on" from such a tragedy, albeit not completely, and to allow myself to be happy again.

That's what happened, I'd say. I got too comfortable, too happy, when I should have been focused on more important matters like my uncle's case. And because of that, I made a mistake: I kissed Zelda. I expressed my love to her.

Granted, she kissed me first. But I reciprocated the feelings, nonetheless.

Doing so gave her the idea that we were an item. Us being an item would put her in danger—fighting the M.O.D. had earned me some powerful enemies. While you might think I'm quite capable of fending for myself and protecting Zelda now, there is only a matter of time before I am met with an enemy I simply cannot handle.

So despite my initial love for the beautiful girl I met on my first day of school, I am forced to stay away from her. To draw away my enemies from her. To protect her.

I do this because I have to. I do this with love. The thought of her being harmed because of me is too much of a risk.

The mere thought of her being harmed sends me into an emotional and mental fit—my newfound anxiety issues.

I fear being a very rare medical case, a seventeen-year-old heart attack victim. Maybe I should stop letting my heart make decisions, as my mind continuously reminds me.

No matter what the cliché says, your heart leads you to do the nonsensical. And while love shouldn't make sense, sometimes it's better off trusting your mind.

* * *

More and more are discovering my identity. First Ghirahim and Vaati, then Veran, and lastly Sakon—who, albeit, isn't much of a factor anymore. This is dangerous. If I am discovered, Zelda, my friends, my school, everyone close to me could be victimized by this gang. Luckily they can't find out all my information from just a first name or a physical appearance.

But Ghirahim can. And he relayed that info to Sakon. Who's to say he won't relay it to someone else, someone like Ganondorf?

I whip out my FiPhone, hastily dialing up Shad.

"Hello?"

"Shad, I need you to do something nearly impossible."

" . . . In my experience in these areas, uh, the odds will be very much against me."

"I need you to get Ghirahim Daemon out of the Castle Town jail. Alright? Move him out of there. I don't care where—Lakeside, Eldinburg, Snowpeak, anywhere but here. Got it?"

"Um, okay, I'll see what I can do." A pause. "Why?"

"Somehow," I begin with a sigh, "he's sending word out to his gang about who I am and where I'm at. This one dude Sakon already—" I freeze. I wasn't supposed to mention that. "Never mind. Just get Ghirahim out of—"

"Sakon Douglas? The M.O.D. gang member who was found dead on the corner near Hyrule Academy?" he asks. "I'm _starting_ to think you had something to do with this."

I hang up abruptly, trembling. If the police didn't think I needed to be locked up before, they most definitely will think it now—that is, if Shad informs them that it was Hero who killed him. But that's not what causes my trembling. A man's death is on my hands. _That's_ what.

My phone buzzes. I check it; it's a text from Shad.

_If it was you, I understand you had your reasons. You're no criminal. Me and my crew are out on the corner. Let's talk. It's really important, needs to be told face to face._

Sighing, I type my reply:_ 5 mins._

Pocketing my phone, I get up from my bed, throwing on a shirt and jacket to cover my naked torso. Hastily, I exit my dorm room, take the stairs to the bottom floor, and emerge into the open air.

Rain falls in a torrential downpour, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminates the grim sky. Perfect weather to fit my mood. I pull up my hood, jam my hands into my pockets, and trek down the sidewalk, the rainwater cascading down its winding path along with me.

When I pass the headmaster's house, the scene of the corner comes into view. Yellow police tape blocks off the road both ways, and two black and white cars are parked along the curb, with one more police car sitting off on the opposite side of the street. Standing beside the outlying vehicle, Shad observes his coworkers' actions from afar.

I arrive at the outside of the tape, catching the attention of an officer. He turns to address me, removing silver aviators from his eyes. "Back up, buddy. Ever seen yellow police tape before?"

I shake my head honestly, shrugging.

"Pfft," scoffs the officer. "In _this_ city? Don't play dumb with me, buddy."

"I'm from Ordonia, _buddy_," I reply, eyes narrowing, "where people are nice. I'd like to speak with my detective."

"Link," Shad calls after finally noticing my presence. He makes his way over to me, brushing past the officer. "You can come in."

"What business does he have here?" asks his coworker.

"The victim's gang killed his uncle."

"That was _your_ uncle?" he asks, turning back toward me. "Still, you have no authorization to come in. Shad, if you want to talk to him, then you go out."

"Fine." He steps over the tape, sending the guy a dirty look before he stalks off. Shad leads me further from the scene, out of earshot from the officers.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Your name is cleared," he says in a low voice, to my utmost relief. "Sakon wasn't in any of our files. No DNA records, fingerprints, nothing. He was literally invisible."

I squint in confusion, asking quietly, "Then how do you know his name?"

"I met him back when I was attending law school here in Castle Town. I was walking down the street to my apartment when he came up to me, introduced himself as Sakon Douglas, and offered to sell me cocaine." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "I saw the crescent moon tattoo and figured out he was in the M.O.D."

"Why would a drug dealer just give his name out like that?" I ask skeptically.

Shad shrugs again. "When you're not in any files, why would a name matter?"

"True."

"Anyway, a couple of my guys suggested that it was a student here at the academy who killed him," he says. Noticing my look of worry, he raises a hand. "Don't fret. They went to question the headmaster. Even though he said you and his daughter were out at the time of the murder, his daughter—Zelda? Yes, Zelda—said you two had only gone to the fountain."

I look down at the ground in shock.

"I told them to look at the knife that did the killing, and sure enough, it had a crescent moon engraved on the blade—the M.O.D. emblem. So now everyone thinks it was a disagreement within the gang." A pause. "Oh, and no fingerprints on it. You're lucky you were wearing gloves. Trust me, you're safe."

"Thank you," I say to Shad, though I wish I could tell that to Zelda. She had my back—she's always had my back.

* * *

"You told her _'We need to talk'_?!" Sheik asks incredulously. "What kinda shitty lining is that?"

I blink. "What's wrong with saying that?"

Mikau answers bluntly, "You basically told her, 'Hey, here's some shitty news,' then told her the shitty news."

"Well good, then I didn't catch her completely off guard," I comment quietly, scratching the back of my head.

"Link?" Pipit asks, looking visibly concerned.

"Yeah?"

"Are you . . . okay with your decision?" he asks. "I mean, from an outsider's perspective, it . . . seemed like you really loved this girl."

"Well . . ." I bite my lip, lowering my gaze. "In a lot of ways, I'm not okay with it, but ultimately I have to be," I answer, pausing. "I mean, I've told you guys before that I didn't want a girlfriend. It, um . . . It feels like shit right now, but I think it's for the best."

They nod quietly.

"This is gonna screw up the whole group, now," Sheik grumbles. We turn to him with questioning expressions. "First Pipit's failure with Karane, then Mikau dumpin' Lulu—"

"Actually, we're ge—"

"—and now you and my sister, Link."

Both Pipit and Mikau shout, "_What_?!"

He blinks. "Guess we haven't told you guys yet," Sheik says with little emotion. "My mom is actually Zelda's mom too. We've been half-siblings this whole time. Surprise."

Mikau laughs. "Bro, this whole time you were drooling over her and calling her hot!"

I turn to send him a grin. "That's what _I_ said!"

"Ugh," Sheik whines, dropping his head to the table. "Why couldn't my dad just wear a condom . . . ?"

"You realize you wouldn't be born, then, right?" I ask.

"At this point, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Don't say that, now," I say. "If you weren't here, who would I have as a roommate?"

"Me!" exclaims a voice.

I dart my head toward the source of the sound: our dorm's open window, with Dark's head poking inside. I roll my eyes. "Dark, we have a door."

"What's cool about that?" he asks, climbing into the dorm. He looks around, seeing Pipit, Mikau, and Sheik. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Dark," they respond slowly, eyeing him curiously.

"Uh, dude," Pipit says slowly to Dark, whose eyebrows raise expectantly, "we're on the third floor."

"Yeah?"

" . . . So how'd you get up here?"

"I'm pretty athletic."

A knock on the door is heard, and Dark calls instantly, "Come in!"

"Dude—!" I protest, shooting him a glare.

"What?"

The door opens, and Midna walks in slowly. "Hey, guys."

I sigh, relieved. For some reason, my paranoid mind wandered to the possibility that it could've been Veran, or Cia, or Agahnim or Volga or whoever coming to get me. I don't know why I even considered that; it's not like they know where I live, unless they contacted Ghirahim—the prime reasoning for my request to Shad to remove Ghirahim from the city.

Although, Vaati knows I'm at the academy, too, but luckily he and I have an alliance for now, so that information should remain undisclosed to his Y.U.G.A. cronies.

My relief doesn't stop me from taking my paranoia out on Dark. Frowning, I whisper forcefully to him, "How could you have known that wasn't someone in the gang coming to capture you again?!"

Dark just looks onward blankly, showing no emotion, refusing to reply.

Confused, I give it up and look toward Midna, who's been looking my way in the meantime. "Hey, Mid, it's been awhile—"

"Shut up, you jackass," she grumbles, storming in and shutting the door forcefully.

"Oh shit," Pipit chimes, eyebrows raised in surprise. Mikau and Sheik match his expression, watching from afar.

I blink as Midna marches up to me, thrusting a finger to my chest. "Listen up, douche-hole," she orders, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a snarl. "I've got no life, which gives me all day to ruin yours. You screwed the hell up with Zelda, and you know it."

I nod, trying to suppress the anguish rising to my chest. "I know."

Midna blinks, taken aback, not expecting that answer from me. She shakes her head vigorously, her previous bravado returning. "D-doesn't matter! You played with her feelings, man! I _liked_ you! I thought you would be good for her after all she's been through!"

I lower my gaze, then sigh. " . . . Is she upset?"

Midna nods. "I haven't seen her this miserable in the entire time I've known her."

_No . . . She's miserable?_ Well, what should I expect? I feel like shit. My heart sinks. Pressure surfaces in my chest as my breathing becomes more labored.

_Not again . . ._

Sheik notices. "Hey, Link," he calls, urgently hopping up from his seat and rushing over to me. He brushes past Midna, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking into my eyes. I blink several times, focusing on his scarlet irises, and my breathing slows and becomes steadier. "Relax, bud. You're okay," he tells me calmly.

Everyone in the room is looking our way, confused.

Sheik turns around, addressing the girl behind him. "Midna," he says, not noticing her breath hitching, "do you think you could drop it? I think you're overreacting."

"Y-you're _under_-reacting!" she protests, though clearly intimidated.

"Please, Mid." He pauses, unaware to her behavior. "This conversation is over."

Her brow furrows stubbornly. "This conversation is _under_!"

"Goodbye."

"_Bad_-bye!"

Sheik walks me to the couch, where I slowly take a seat, attempting to keep my heart rate down.

"Link, I can't believe how you're acting through all this!" Midna says. "You're supposed to be just as miserable if you _ever_ cared about Zelda. Why are you acting like this?"

I inhale, exhale, then say in a calm and quiet voice, "Because I accepted that we can't be together."

"You're taking the easy way out," she growls. "You're a coward."

"Midna!" Sheik shouts abruptly, having finally lost his cool. "Please leave. Now."

No one seems to notice but me as Midna sniffles quietly, eyes tearing up. She turns on her heel and hurries out, the door slamming behind her.

I had forgotten the fact that she's in love with Sheik.

_Coward_, she said. Am I a coward? Am I a disgrace to the Triforce of Courage?

Back to normal, I turn to Sheik. "Thanks . . . for calming me down." He nods as Pipit and Mikau still give me confused looks.

Remembering Dark's strange behavior—even for Dark standards—I turn around to look at him.

He blinks his maroon eyes several times, then whips his head in my direction. "Whew! Sorry, bro, I was lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory."

"No kidding," I reply. "What were you thinking about?"

He shrugs. "Oh, you know—Pop-Tarts." A blatant lie. "Speaking of, I'm gonna go get some. Might as well use one of those _'door'_ things, right?" Dark says, using air quotes, and hopping up quickly.

I squint, following him with my eyes, concerned with his suspicious behavior. He exits the dorm, sending a wink my way before letting the door shut.

"Well, he knows how to use one," Mikau comments idly.

"Hey, um, I'm gonna get some air," I announce, mostly to Sheik. He nods, understanding.

As I follow in Dark's footsteps—not figuratively, of course—I hear Pipit ask quietly, "What's his deal?" before the door shuts behind me.

Outside, I hear quickly-receding steps down the hall. Looking toward the end, I see Dark's figure jogging toward the staircase, shouting, "Hey! Wait up!" before he disappears from my sight behind the wall.

Curiously, I follow him, taking quiet steps. Peering around the wall, standing at the top of the stairs, I eavesdrop on Dark as he bounds down to the third level. There, he puts a hand on a girl's shoulder—Midna.

"Hey, you got a sec?"

Midna turns around quickly, fists up in defense, before recognition flashes across her countenance. "Oh, Link's twin."

"Not actually; I'm his doppelganger."

Eyes glazed, she replies monotonously, "What do you want."

"Look, Michaela—"

"Midna."

"Right, sorry," Dark says. "Mia, I noticed—"

"_Mid-na_," she corrects once more.

"Marina, I noticed that you were almost crying back there in Link's room," he says innocently.

Ignoring the fact that Dark once again got her name wrong, Midna fixes him with a puzzled look. "Y-you were in there?"

"I tend to blend in."

"Oh," she says. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

Dark smiles. "Yeah, you do. You almost cried when Zeke told you to leave. It's okay to cry, you know."

"His name is Sheik."

"That's what I said."

" . . . No you didn't."

Dark blinks. "Oh. Well, I'm not good with names."

"I couldn't tell."

With a smile, Dark leans on the railing of the stairway, maintaining eye contact. "What made you sad?"

Midna fixes him with a curious look. "Why should I tell you? I barely know you."

He scoffs. "This would be how you _get_ to know someone."

She pauses, then nods. " . . . Good point."

"So?" Dark asks expectantly.

"_Sheik_ made me sad," Midna admits, rolling her eyes. "And I hate being sad more than anything. Well, not more than when people _know_ that I'm sad."

Dark sends her a grin. "You like your dignity, don't you?"

She shrugs. "Whenever I'm sad, I _stop_ being sad. Being sad is for the weak."

"So how did he make you sad?"

Midna's gaze falls, and she sighs, smiling to hide her emotions. "It's . . . not _what_ he said, but _who_ the person who said it, is."

"Huh?" is all Dark can muster up for a reply.

She meets his eyes. "I have some feelings for Sheik."

He blinks, surprised. " . . . Oh."

"So it hurt when he took Link's side," Midna explains. "But I hate feelings. They suck. Feelings are for the weak."

"You're making yourself sound pretty weak right now."

She gives a small smile, then it drops. "I don't want to have these feelings, especially since he's dating one of my best friends, so this'll probably go away. And now, to top it all off, all my guy friends hate me."

Dark perks up, grinning. "I'm a guy. I can be your friend. I love new friends."

Midna smiles back, nodding slowly. "Alright. You're my new bro. Now we're friends."

"With benefits."

"Um, no."

"Alright, bro-beans," he says cheerily. "Catch you later, gator." Dark turns to head up the stairs, with Midna watching him peculiarly.

"Oh, Dark?" she calls.

"Yes?"

"It's Midna."

"Miranda. Got it." He flashes her a thumbs-up before climbing up the stairwell.

* * *

Monday, November 12th

Days have passed. This week in school, I've been mostly silent, going through the motions of school in a melancholy stupor.

It's harder and harder not to think about the source of my heartache, Zelda, with her sitting in some of the same classrooms as me. Whenever I'd see the headmaster walking around in the hallways, I'd duck my head and avoid his gaze at all costs.

As I zone out in Computer Skills while Mr. Minish gives a stupid lecture, I can't help but think about the night that changed my life.

Everything Zelda said was true. Well, nearly. I _do_ care about her, no matter how much she claims otherwise. But I didn't plan on having a relationship with her; I didn't plan on any future between us. She was right about that. Honestly, though, despite how much I'd wonder _What if?_ in the future, I should've never made any moves on her.

"Link, why are you not paying attention?"

I meet the old coot's eyes and shrug, refusing to reply.

"Moody today, huh?" he asks in a condescending tone. My eyes idly dart to Zelda, who keeps her sapphire-blue eyes glued to the desk before her. Frowning, Mr. Minish crosses his arms over his chest. "Link, what is your grade in this class?"

Classmates look at me, awaiting my answer, save for Zelda, continuing the staring contest with her desk. I inhale, losing my patience with this guy, then exhale. "I don't check my grades in classes that don't matter," I reply in a low voice.

"And I don't give good grades to students who don't matter," he retorts. "That should give you an idea of what your grade is in this class."

Unfazed by his words, I look away and flash him a haughty thumbs-up.

* * *

Tuesday, November 13th

"I heard Sakon died," Vaati says as he and I walk down the street, both clothed in regular attire. My Hero garb rests in my backpack, so the public won't point me out and cause a scene, and because Vaati already knows my identity.

"I heard that too."

"Heard it from your eyes?" Vaati snorts. "It was right outside the academy; I know it was you."

"I refuse to admit anything."

"Smart," he comments. "Anyway, I told everyone in my gang it was suicide."

"How come?" I ask.

"So no one goes to the academy to find you."

I think about that, blinking in surprise. "Well thanks."

"Don't thank me," he says with a shake of his head. "I've got people there I care about, _too._ I'm not a _total_ monster." He looks at me. "Plus, that would be pretty cheap to attack your home. Gotta play the game first before jumping to the end."

I nod, my respect for this dude already growing—or, appearing.

"I came to tell you something," Vaati says, cutting to the chase. "Cia's impatient with you, and wants you to get the M.O.D.s in already. You've only got Ghirahim, Onox, and Sakon."

"Tell her she can wait. This was never meant to happen overnight."

"She wants a predicted deadline from you."

"Why?"

"So we can plan to initiate phase two."

"What's phase two?"

"Confidential," he replies curtly, eyes directed forward.

I glare at him, piqued, still distrustful of his stubborn gang. "I'll have them in within a month."

"A month?!" Vaati repeats, eyeing me incredulously. "That's way too long!"

"Cry about it."

Fuming, Vaati narrows his eyes at me. "I just did you an enormous favor."

I roll my eyes. "And I'm doing you an even bigger one, since your gang could never stop the M.O.D. yourselves."

At a loss for words, Vaati grumbles quietly to himself. "Where are you taking me?" I ask him, curious.

He points upward at a billboard that reads:_ Welcome to the Tri District! Population: Everyone that matters!_

The paved, concrete streets gradually fade to red and brown brick as we enter the old area of Castle Town. Cars cruise by on the weathered roads at much slower speeds, and the crowds here are much more thinned out. Personally, I prefer this part of town over any.

Vaati reaches an arm out, stopping me, and points up at one of Hyrule Castle's tall spires. "Ever seen the castle, country boy?"

"Once," I answer, looking up at the edifice.

"King Gustaf lives there, as you probably know," he begins, "who we respect."

"That's surprising."

"That's because you base our gang on Dragmire's." Vaati shakes his head. "We're different from them."

"Yeah?" I ask half-skeptically.

"The main difference between us, you see," he says, pointing at the castle while maintaining eye contact with me, "is that Cia wants to kill Ganondorf and rule the streets. Ganondorf wants to kill Gustaf and rule the world."

" . . . Wow," I comment to myself.

Seeing my surreal expression, Vaati shrugs. "Take that as you feel and make your decisions accordingly."

* * *

Wednesday, November 14th

It's 3 AM, and I can't sleep. Make that eight consecutive nights. The brief moments of slumber I experience result in me jolting awake in a pool of sweat after nightmares of the girl I love being harmed.

She's been miserable. And dammit, so have I.

The world is against me, and I'm against the world. Curse the goddesses for giving me such horrible luck. Curse the damn Triforce on my hand.

All it ever did was put a target on my back.

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I roll over and try to fall asleep, but to no avail. All I can think about is the countless mistakes I've made.

I guess it's time to avenge each and every single one of them.


	16. Downer

**A/N: Well, North Korea declared war on the USA. No that's not a joke, no matter how funny it sounds.**

**But that's not the biggest news in America, no sir. The biggest news is that I made _some_ of my readers mad last chapter. Whoops. If you're angry, though, keep in mind that the genre is _ROMANCE…_ with paired characters _LINK &amp; ZELDA_… Try to put the pieces together here… Hopefully that gives you guys some reassurance :D**

**Thanks to chapter fifteen reviewers: Z Johnson, Danaud64, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, TheChargingRhino, DemonKingGanondorf, Immortal Fierce Dragon, nintendoer27, Infernal Flame Zero, and my home-dog guest reviewers!**

**_Last time in Hyrule . . ._**

**_Link visited Zelda's childhood home to dine with her father. After an argument with the headmaster about Hero, Link left, Zelda in tow. Outside, Sakon jumped them, holding a knife to Zelda, prompting Link to kill him. Horrified, Link fled, and Zelda followed again. There, Link finally told Zelda he couldn't be with her, in order to protect her. Zelda, heartbroken and angry, reprimanded Link for his inability to commit, and stormed off crying. The morning after, Shad told Link he was safe from the law, since Sakon wasn't on any records. Midna, pissed at Link, told him off for breaking Zelda's heart, causing him to have another anxiety attack. Some nights later, Vaati met up with Link, saying that to keep his gang from ever showing up at the academy to get Link, he told them Sakon had committed suicide. Most of Link's nights were sleepless, and he reflected on the mistakes he made, vowing to avenge all of them._**

**I know that I sometimes don't say that Link is wearing his Hero suit (which is the same as in the games except it has green leather "armor" on the exterior similar to football pads) but just assume that every time he's out at night being Hero, he's wearing the suit. Unless stated otherwise, of course.**

**I really like this chapter, for the most part. Read along and review please!**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 16: Downer**

* * *

Wednesday, November 14th

"Are you coming?" Sheik asks, brows raised, hope shining in his scarlet eyes.

"To where?" I croak in response, rubbing my sleepy eyes after awakening from a long nap.

"The lounge."

I look past Sheik, seeing Pipit, Mikau, and Mido in the doorway, all eager to go. "Will your sister be there?"

He finches. "Uh . . . Yeah."

I shake my head. "You guys go on along. I'm not really in the mood."

The guys in the doorway sigh, and turn to leave, but Sheik stays put. "Link."

I run a hand through my hair. "That's me."

"You haven't been in the mood all week," he whines. "Remember our pact?"

"What pact?"

"Three nights a week—you, me, Mikau, and Pipit go hang."

Eyes glazed, I say dully, "Oh. Right."

"We haven't exactly been following through with that. So come on!"

I sigh deeply, shaking my head. "You know I can't."

Sheik sighs and begins to chew on his lip, looking down solemnly. "I'm sorry. Sometimes it's hard for me, man. Sometimes I don't know if I should side with you or Zelda, my half-sister. This sucks."

"Try being in my position."

"Look," Sheik begins, rubbing his shaggy blonde hair offhandedly, "I know that you've always said you don't want a girlfriend, but why don't you?"

I sit up in my bed finally, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm the unluckiest person I know," I explain, nodding sadly. "I'm not gonna let that get to her."

"Screw luck," Sheik says. "You shouldn't let something as stupid and petty as luck keep you away from the girl you love."

"Sheik, I just can't take that chance," I stress.

"Alright, well, I understand." He turns to go, but halts to look over his shoulder first. "Um, thanks for, uh, keeping her safe, then," he says awkwardly. "Take this time to get over her and feel better, huh?"

"I think I'll just eat my sorrows away," I reply dejectedly, reaching over to my nightstand to grab a bag of chips.

Sheik rolls his eyes. "Just remember to keep your chins up."

* * *

"I saw your conversation with Midna."

With a toothy grin, Dark turns to look at me. "Oh, I know."

Sending him a look of confusion, I scoff, "What? How do you know?"

"You suck at hiding."

"But Midna couldn't see me."

"That's because she's a human."

I blink. " . . . So?"

We pass a pizza shop, and Dark peers inside offhandedly. Two old ladies stand behind the counter, emphatically spinning and tossing dough into the air. My hand tingles, oddly, but I think nothing of it.

"So, shadows like myself have heightened senses," Dark explains, tearing his gaze away from the tempting Italian food.

We walk along. ". . . Why'd you go after her?" I ask after awhile.

"To make her feel better," Dark responds instantly. Seeing the odd look I give him, he raises his palms up innocently. "She's hot."

"You like the goth type?" I ask, referencing Midna's mostly-black clothing choices, complete with the shady eye makeup and the bright orange ponytail.

Dark raises a questioning eyebrow. "What's goth?"

I look him up and down. Jet-black hair, black sweatshirt, black jeans and Vans. "You."

A smile forms on his lips. "So we're perfect for each other!"

I laugh. "You kidding me? She's in love with Sheik."

"She told me."

"I know."

"I know you know." Dark taps a finger to his temple, grinning at me like a child. "As you also know, I became her friend."

"Yeah, you basically friend-zoned yourself," I tell him, chuckling.

"Nope. There is always sexual tension between female and male friends. Always," he assures me. "It's basic human psychology."

"Where'd you learn that?"

" . . . My friend." He grins suggestively.

I roll my eyes. "Aren't you a lot older than Midna, and actually, all of us?" I ask him, recalling one of our nights out at the bar, when he said he was definitely old enough to be in there legally.

"Age is nothing but a letter, Link."

"You should consider going to school."

He chuckles, asking, "What's the point of that?"

"So you don't say stupid stuff like that. I'll bet Midna likes intelligent guys."

"She likes Sheik!"

"Point taken." A small smile tugs at my lips. "I'm just trying to give you pointers so you don't get rejected."

"I don't fear rejection," he states matter-of-factly. "When someone rejects me, I only end up liking them more because of their ability to make good decisions."

I grin, but it fades quickly as I look away. Unsurprisingly, Dark notices.

" . . . You're quiet lately," he comments after a brief moment of silence, following my eyes to the night sky—dark and overcast with clouds.

"I've been talking to you."

Dark shrugs. "But with less emotion. It's like your personality is gone."

"How so?" I ask, head facing downward.

Dark's crimson eyes flick over to me. "You're not the usual witty, smart-ass Link. The one who makes fun of everyone with the utmost confidence and savagery." A smile graces his lips, but it's quick to leave.

Finally looking at him, I sigh, telling him flatly, "I lost the girl I love."

"What?" His eyes widen massively. "Like—like _'your uncle'_ kind of lost?"

"_No_! No, thank gods, no," I say, rapidly shaking my head. Pressure rises to my chest at the very thought, threatening to send me into another breakdown. "No, I just—can't ever be with her."

"I get why that is," he mutters. "Who is it, even? You never told me."

"Really?" I receive a nod for a reply. "Oh," I say, blinking back surprise. "It was Zelda."

"Zelda?"

"Yeah."

"Wow," Dark says. "You know, I was going to go for her, but she's like—" He pauses. "—_royalty_ status. I'm not hot enough for her. Way outta my league."

I squint suspiciously. " . . . I look just like you."

He turns his head, a nervous grin splayed out across his face. "Right. _About_ that . . . "

I punch him in the arm, pretty hard.

"OUCH!" he yelps, rubbing his sore limb. "Holy shit! That was totally uncalled for!"

"You provoked me."

"That's my job!" he protests. "_Damn_. Wish I had one of those Triforces so I could punch _you_ that hard."

Staring at my feet, I shake my head. "Trust me, you don't. It's a curse, not a blessing." As if in a response, my hand starts to throb. I wish it would quit doing that.

Dark eyes me peculiarly, but doesn't press the matter.

We pass a shoe store, and after hearing several unintelligent outbursts of _"Daaamn, Daniel"_ and _"What are thoooose,"_ Dark stops in his tracks.

I stop too, confused with his behavior, in front of a closed haircut parlor, turning my head to look at him. "What're you doing?"

"I'm not allowed within fifty feet of this place." He pauses, pointing to the haircut parlor. " . . . Or Build-A-Bear Workshop."

"Why?" I question through a laugh. "On second thought, don't tell me why. But are you a pedophile?"

"No! Of course not," Dark insists. "Although, say what you want about pedophiles, but I've noticed they _do_ drive slower through school zones."

"I wonder why," I say sarcastically. "Besides, it's closed, and you're not in any legal files. They aren't gonna catch you."

Dark nods, relieved. His eyes flick upward, then, widening as they land on something behind me.

"What in Din's name is this?!" exclaims a familiarly-smooth voice from behind my back. I turn to see Vaati, wrapped up in a purple sweatshirt, staring wide-eyed at my doppelganger.

I bite my lip. "Vaati, you haven't—"

"You're mine!" roars Dark's voice as all I see is a black blur ramming into Vaati's unexpecting body. The two of them topple over, and Dark pins the lavender boy underneath him, restraining his arms.

"Hey!" I shout. "Dark, let him go! What're you doing?"

"My common senses are tingling!" he answers, glaring menacingly down at the frightened Vaati. He lifts up one of Vaati's arms and yanks the sleeve down, showing me the crescent moon tattoo on the underside of his wrist. "He's in the M.O.D.!" He turns back toward Vaati, growling. "You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say will be misquoted, then used against you!"

Vaati squirms underneath Dark's body. "Ghirahim gave me that tattoo in prison out of revenge for betraying him, you dumb behemoth, now get off of me!" he commands.

Ghirahim gave Vaati the tattoo of the gang he betrayed? Now there's an ironic form of punishment.

"Dark, he's not in the M.O.D.," I tell him sternly. "Get off of him."

He reluctantly obeys, glowering, anger and confusion contorting his face. "Okay . . . maybe he isn't. I guess that explains why he wasn't with them when I was first summoned."

Vaati points a finger at him. "I knew you were from the dark world. When were you summoned?"

"Like, October fourth."

Vaati nods. "Right. I didn't fake-join the M.O.D. 'til the sixth."

Dark looks at me, confused. "Will you explain this 'fake-join' crap he's saying?"

I nod. "He's in the Y.U.G.A. and was spying on the M.O.D."

Vaati nods affirmatively. "I take it they're after you, too?" he asks Dark.

He nods back. "Yep. Ganondouche wants me because he couldn't control me like he could with his monsters. Looks like we are all their targets."

Shrugging, Vaati replies, "Or they're all ours."

"What do you mean _'ours,'_ you Oompa Loompa?" Dark asks Vaati in a hostile tone. "I will not be associated in the same group as you."

Vaati scoffs. "You just said the word '_we_.'"

"If you think Link and I are going to help you out, then you are on some wild-ass Pixy Stix."

"I'm _not_ an Oompa Loompa."

"We're not helping you!" Folding his arms over his chest, Dark stubbornly nods in my direction, seeking my approval.

Vaati looks my way and sighs, shaking his head. I put a hand up, silently signifying my apologies for Dark's behavior—and, well, personality. Turning to Dark, I tell him flatly, "He and I have already teamed up to fight the M.O.D."

Dark's eyebrows perk up in surprise, then he squints in confusion, looking from me to Vaati then back to me. "What? Why?"

Vaati gives my doppelganger an angry look, heaves an irritated sigh, and explains, "Because without my gang, it's one against like, ten." A pause. "With us, it's all even."

Dark bites his lip, thinking pensively. Then, he shouts, "Welcome aboard!" and leaps over to ruffle Vaati's lavender hair with his knuckles. "Do I get free golden tickets to the chocolate factory?"

"Go to hell."

* * *

Thursday, November 15th

"I don't know why you don't take that damn glove off, Link."

I narrow my eyes at Pipit as I complete my last few push-ups with ease. "I don't know why you give a shit."

Ever since I bought it, I've never taken the glove off my hand—except to wash it, of course—in order to hide the Triforce mark. It's a little paranoid, sure, but there's a chance that some people would be questioning of it. Perhaps some would even figure out I'm the bearer of one of the pieces. Doubtful, but possible.

Sheik eyes me mysteriously as Pipit continues arguing. "Even in PE, though?" the brunette asks. He finishes his set of sit-ups, relaxes, and fixes his brown eyes on me with a peculiar expression. "It's hurting my image. Makes me look like I'm hanging out with some weirdo."

"They don't seem to think so." I gesture with my head to the group of girls next to ours, who frequently turn their heads in our direction. His eyes flick over to them, curious.

"They're looking at me, idiot," Pipit remarks a little to loudly. "Plus, those girls right there are hoes."

As if on cue, their heads dart over to us. "Excuse me?" one of them asks, drawn-on eyebrows raised. On second thought, I'd much rather prefer that they weren't looking at me. Her orange, spray-tanned face wrinkles in an angry frown. "As if we're interested in you, you damn nerds!"

Touching.

"Nerds?" Pipit repeats, scoffing. "We'll probably become your bosses one day."

I look at the girls, fighting the urge to cringe, then turn to Pipit. "Nah, I never planned on becoming a pimp."

They gasp, then shout something that rhymes with the words "suck goo" in retort, and return to their conversation.

I glance over at Pipit and Sheik, who are doubling over laughing, and crack a small smile myself. "What?" I ask with false innocence.

"Dude," Pipit says through his laughs, wide-eyed, "you pretty much just ended their lives."

"I haven't witnessed a roast that legendary since my last time making s'mores," chuckles Sheik.

I shrug as Mido comes to our group after a bathroom break, settling into the push-up position to begin his warmup. "'Sup, guys," he says.

Sheik grins eagerly. "Dude—you just missed out. Link practically committed murder."

I flinch at his word choice, darting my head toward him, saying instantly, "It was out of self-defense!" Images flash through my mind—Sakon's blood on my hands, his body lying still in the bushes, Zelda's terrified look in her eye as he'd been holding the knife to her neck . . .

"Yeah, he defended us," he says somewhat awkwardly, snapping me out of it, nodding to me before turning back to Mido. "These girls called us nerds, so Link . . . "

I don't listen, even though the words Sheik used did not mean what I thought they did. After minutes of zoning out, my eyes down and thinking to myself, I get confused at the turn of the coversation when I regain my sense of reality.

"Oh, there's this pizza place I'm gonna take you guys to after school. I heard it's legendary."

I meet his expectant eyes. "Yeah, uh, I don't think I'm gonna go," I tell him.

Sheik glares at me, shaking his head. "I don't think you have a choice this time."

* * *

"Mod Pizza," I announce, squinting up at the shop's sign.

"Yep," Sheik chimes, grinning over at me. "Just an eleven minute walk from the academy. Can't believe I haven't noticed this before."

I send him a bored look.

"Hey. Pep up, Eeyore," he chastises. "Mido and Tidbit are meeting us here in a bit. It'll be fun, believe me."

"Alright," I grunt skeptically, rolling my eyes and following him as he pushes the double doors inward. We're met with a rush of warm air, which feels nice in contrast to the cold autumn breeze outside.

Booths and tables are set to our left, one row beside the windows and other in the middle of the floor. People are scattered around amongst the seats, chatting amongst themselves, creating a dull hum. A counter stands behind these setups, with two wrinkly old ladies manning the pizza-creation.

"Welcome to Mod!" one of them calls upon seeing us.

Sheik walks up to the counter, and I follow him as he greets one of the old ladies. She is short, rather skinny, and has tanned, wrinkled skin that stretches outward as she smiles. A name tag is pinned on her blue apron, reading: _Kotake._

The other lady, I notice, looks identical to Kotake, except for her red apron. She mills about dutifully behind the counter, checking on each pizza within the various ovens.

"What would you two young fellas like today?" Kotake inquires enthusiastically, behavior I wouldn't expect from a woman of her age.

"Let's just take . . . an extra large pepperoni pizza, and four waters, please," Sheik says, withdrawing his wallet. I try to do the same, but he stops me. "I got it, bro."

"Thanks," I tell him.

"Alright. That'll be twenty-three rupees, please."

Sheik hands over the gems, as I silently wish I had a little more funds to be able to pay for the group one day.

Kotake grins, dropping the currency into the register. "My sis Koume will bring your food out when it's ready. Find a seat wherever you'd like."

"Thanks," Sheik says, leading me to a booth beside the window.

As Sheik slides into the seat across from me, I suddenly realize that this was the pizza place Dark and I had passed while we were out last night. Huh, small world.

About ten minutes of idle chat later, Koume comes up to our table with a platter of the giant pizza and four drinks, smiling warmly at us as she sets it down. "Enjoy, boys," she says before turning to leave. She stops, though, eyes on me. "I like your glove, buddy."

Beneath it, my hand begins to throb uneasily. " . . . Uh, thanks," I say politely but awkwardly. Koume's eyes linger on the leather glove for a second, but then she smiles at the both of us and heads back to the counter.

That was strange.

"See? This is great, right? It's good to get you out of the dorm," says Sheik cheerily, brushing past that weird moment and taking a massive bite of pepperoni pizza.

"I've _been_ getting out of the dorm," I insist.

"Late night walks don't count," he says through a stuffed mouth. "You've done that since you got to the academy, anyway."

"Exercise is good for you."

"Yeah, and so is sleep."

"Sleep," I scoff, staring down at my food. "What's that?"

His eyebrows raise. "You've got insomnia?"

I nod solemnly, eyes down. " . . . She's all I can think about."

Sheik sighs. "I'm sorry, bro."

Silence ensues, but moments later Pipit and Mido barge into the door amidst a heated debate. "You're saying that I shouldn't have gotten her?"

"No, I'm saying that I could have easily gotten that chick! She was way too easy for you!"

"Are you saying you've got more game than me?" Pipit demands.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. But on second thought, I do."

"You've gotta be kidding!" Pipit laughs heartily. "Sheik, which one of us has more game?" As he slides into the seat beside the blonde, Mido scoots in next to me.

"Uh, neither of you guys," Sheik answers flatly.

Their eyebrows raise. "What?"

"If getting girls is the game, then having a girlfriend is winning." He crosses his arms over his chest, shrugging.

Pipit looks at Mido, then back at the blonde. "Maybe if you're playing peewee." Pipit shakes his head scornfully and turns to me. "Link, what about you?"

I take a sip of my water, eyeing him, then ask dully, "What about me?"

"Which of us has more game?"

"Mido," I answer instantly, to Pipit's dismay. Mido pumps a celebratory fist in the air. "Only because I feel like Pipit has an STD, which would give Mido a much longer lifespan to catch up."

Pipit points a finger at me. "That depends on the STD."

Squinting in confusion, Mido says, "I'm starting to worry about you."

Pipit smirks. "Alright. You 'n I will figure this out on our own."

"Link _just_ said—"

"Pretend I'm a girl," Pipit orders, "a hot girl."

"That's not possible."

"Shut up. What would you say to me?"

Biting his lip, Mido thinks for a moment. With his eyes still closed, Mido opens his mouth to speak: " . . . Are you from Memphis? 'Cause you're the only _ten I see_." Grinning in self-approval, he eagerly turns to Pipit.

"That was shit."

Mido's smile drops. "My cousin told me that one."

"Is your cousin a virgin?"

"No idea."

"He must be. If you said that to a girl, you wouldn't get laid even if you crawled up a chicken's ass," Pipit says assuredly. "That settles it. I've got more game. End of discussion."

Mido glares at the brunette, then looks away. "Whatever. Now I guess I'm counting on that STD."

"Wow. You're a horrible friend."

"Who said we were friends?"

Pipit's eyes drift to the door, brushing off Mido's snide comment, and he raises his eyebrows. "What the hell?" he whispers.

Sheik follows his gaze, reacting similarly: "What the hell?" Curiously, Mido and I crane our necks to look back at the door behind us.

Bursting through it with an elated spring in his step, Mikau laughs along with the girl at his side. Wait—_girl_ at his side?

"Lulu?!" Pipit blurts.

Lulu doesn't hear, and she and Mikau waltz up to the counter like nothing bad had ever happened between them.

"I-I don't understand," Pipit says, wide-eyed.

"Didn't they break up?" asks Mido. We nod.

"Lulu was mad because Mikau was spending too much time with us," says Sheik, scarlet eyes trained on the two, "and when he got drunk one night, she didn't like that."

I nod idly, remembering that night and the subsequent events, when I hid behind a vending machine to eavesdrop on their breakup. Turning to my friends, I ask, "Why do you think she gave him another chance?"

"Maybe it's his fame," Mido comments.

"That might be true," Sheik mutters, "but Ruto is the greedy one, not Lulu."

Pipit nods. "Ruto's a bitch."

"Well think about it," Mido continues. "Ever since their gig at Odolwa Center, Morpha's album has sold a thousand copies from the Best Buy down the block." He shrugs. "I think she regrets quitting."

Then, as the four of us stare questioningly at the "couple," Mikau turns his head toward us. His eyes widen, he mutters something under his breath, then he plasters on a nervous smile. "Hey, guys!"

None of us answer, maintaining our suspicious and surprised eye contact.

Finally, Lulu realizes where Mikau's looking, and turns her head toward us. She grins, just as nervously as Mikau. "Hi, guys!" she greets with false excitement.

Finally, out of politeness, we return their greetings, albeit with less enthusiasm. "Hey, Mikau, hey, Lulu," we groan in unison, like possessed people in a horror movie.

Lulu's deep blue eyes flick up to me, and she frowns indignantly, biting her lip. I know exactly what she's thinking right now. But instead of chewing me out like Midna did, she puts on a false smile and says, "Excuse me for a moment; I need to use the restroom."

"Alright," says Mikau and no one else.

When she leaves, Mikau turns to us uneasily. "So, how're you g—"

"Sell-out!" Pipit barks, pointing an accusative finger at him.

I observe the following events with a dull look in my eyes, propping my head up on my closed fist, elbow on the table. Lulu definitely wanted to scream her lungs out at me for what happened between me and Zelda. I sigh, deflated.

Sheik folds his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed at the boy standing apprehensively before us, like a deer in headlights. "Mikau, what are you doing?"

"I tried telling you we were getting back together," he proclaimed with wide, innocent eyes.

"Since when?" Pipit asks.

"Uh, last week."

The four of us sitting down exchange looks, sigh as a unit, and turn our attention back to Mikau.

"Don't worry, Mik," Pipit assures, "I'll break up with her for you." He takes one of the napkins on the table, pulls a pen out of his pants pocket, and begins to write, reading it aloud as he does so. "'Dearest Lulu, welcome to Dumpville. Population: _you_.'"

Mikau glances at Pipit, telling him flatly, "I'm not breaking up with her."

"Bro—"

"She promised that she's letting me hang out with you guys more."

"Well you didn't come through today," Mido points out.

" . . . I would've, but it's our one-year anniversary today."

A chorus of groans rings out across the booth. "Aww, Mikau," Pipit says in an abnormally soft tone, "that's so sweet, that I wanna stuff a heart-shaped pillowcase full of old Tom Cruise movies, and beat you with it."

Mikau just looks at him with a frown.

"Today shouldn't be your one-year if you two broke up," Sheik states. "It starts over. Today doesn't count."

"It counts!" Mikau protests stubbornly. "If it didn't count I'd be sitting right here next to you guys!"

Pipit shrugs, telling him, "Nah, there isn't any room for a fifth. Sorry, tiger." Mikau rolls his eyes.

* * *

Friday, November 16th

FRIDAY. Almost the weekend. Gods know I could use a weekend to recuperate, what with my insomnia and frequent nights out, either alone or with Dark. Not only do I have a chance to recuperate, but a chance to get away from my thoughts of Zelda. _Like that'll happen,_ I tell myself cynically, but at least I won't be forced to see her four times a day.

To make matters worse, I've done nearly no homework for any class this whole week, and consequently, my grades began to slip. Granted, I'm not the smartest in the first place, but I typically have the work ethic to finish assignments . . . when I feel like it. All week I haven't felt like it. The only thing I've felt like was a depressed screw-up.

Zelda hasn't so much as looked my way in eleven days, since our . . . incident. I try to avoid torturing myself from looking at her, but all I can do is wonder, _What if?_

What if I didn't have Ganondorf's target on my back? What if there were no Ganondorf in the first place? Then Rusl wouldn't have been killed. (But then I wouldn't have been invited to this academy, and I wouldn't have met Zelda. . . . ) But most of all, what if I hadn't done what I'd done; what if I hadn't ended things between the two of us? Would Zelda be safe?

Probably not. And that's the sad reality of it all. I can daydream all my stupid mind wants, but ultimately, I'm reminded that I made the morally-right choice. And that provides some consolation, but nothing to cure my heartache.

I've been letting my mind wander through Mr. Lux's entire lecture about the "split timeline theory" or whatever, which makes absolutely no sense. Think about it, if we're in the present, and our past has three pasts that were all simultaneously happening, how did all pasts end up to be the present? Or, maybe we're still on one timeline, and if so, how would we know about the other two?

Honestly it's about as realistic as like, a talking boat.

"And so, this third timeline is called the Adult Era. Here, after the Hero of Time was sent back to his own time to relive his life as a child, the kingdom was left without a hero. . . . "

I turn to my left to send Sheik a bored look. He returns it, nods knowingly, and rests his chin in his folded arms on the desk. I swear, this teacher has been rambling for like, thirty straight minutes.

The whiteboard at the head of the classroom displays a diagram of the timeline of the legends, powered by a projector that hangs from the ceiling above me. Gods, what I would give to see that projector somehow malfunction and stop working. Then maybe ol' Rauru would shut up.

An idea pops into my head, and I smirk to myself. It's risky, but as Confucius himself said, _YOLO._

I close my eyes, training my mind to search the depths of my body for energy, like a submarine expedition through a series of underwater caves. Instantly my hand is filled with the strange electricity, and I very, very subtly flick my thumb upward. A miniscule, quick bolt flies up out of my gloved hand and buries itself within the projector. The diagram on the whiteboard flickers, then dies out.

A chorus of laughs and cheers bursts out throughout the class. No one knew it was me, though, I tell myself mischievously. I find myself smiling, a rare occasion nowadays, and turn to Sheik. He's no longer lying down on his desk; instead he stares at me with an unreadable expression. But when he notices I'm looking at him, he immediately slaps on a grin and chuckles.

"Ugh," Rauru grumbles, "I'll need to get that fixed." And that's what he focuses on doing for the rest of the class period, calling the school technician to the classroom.

I wonder if he saw me. I sure hope he didn't.

The bell rings, and students eagerly begin filing out of the classroom, breathing the sweet air of freedom. Nah, he didn't see me.

"Link, I need you to see me after school today."

Shit.

* * *

Couldn't I have just waited the ten extra minutes until class ended? Probably, in retrospect. But no, my stupid instinctive mind decided to be impatient and break a stupid-ass projector. What is my infatuation with destroying school property?

My bank account sure as hell remembers the hefty bill I had to pay to replace the basketball hoop. That was stupid.

I'm stupid.

I reluctantly knock on Rauru Lux's door, open it, and see the history teacher waiting for me at his desk. "Link, good to see you," he greets, rising to his feet as I make my way over to a comfortable conversing distance from him.

"Yeah, um . . . same here," I say politely but untruthfully. I don't want to see him, but I mean, it's better than Mr. Masca or Mr. Minish.

"First of all, you're not in trouble, Link."

My eyes widen. "So you didn't see me break your projector?" I find myself asking unintentionally.

"What?"

"Nothing," I instantly say.

He furrows his voluminous white eyebrows, but brushes off my slip-up. "My interrupted lecture today, about the legends and their timeline placements, really got me thinking about you, Mr. Gaiden."

I blink. " . . . Why?"

He shakes his head, heaving a sigh. "Surely you've seen the current state of our city lately. Look around; you can't go two miles without witnessing a crime." He fixes me with a serious look. "It's a cry for help, Link."

"What's your point?"

Rauru lowers his gaze. "You purchased that glove from Mr. Masca, correct?"

I blink in confusion, not answering his question. The leather of my glove begins to itch.

"He told me there was a suspicious mark on your hand. Something I would be interested in."

I gulp nervously, heart pumping. " . . . It's a scar, Mr. Lux," I tell him dishonestly. "I don't think you'll find that interesting."

Clearly ignoring my lie, he cuts to the chase, saying, "I believe the goddesses chose you as an answer to our city's cry for help."

I stare at him blankly for a moment, then scoff. The goddesses didn't choose me! They _cursed_ me! He clearly thinks that I possess a piece of the Triforce, which I refuse to admit as true. He must assume I'm like, the Hero of Time, or whatever those fairytales are. That's all they are. Fairytales. "I believe you're a crackpot."

Crackpot. What a strange word. It compounds two words for recreational drugs and it defines as a crazy person. Or, maybe it describes the craziness someone would acquire after using crack or pot. I'll bet Rauru rolled a joint or two this morning before heading to work. That would explain a lot.

"You're not religious, I take it?" Rauru asks, folding his arms over his chest and eyeing me sternly.

"I believe in the possibility of gods. But no fairytale from the books you make us read is believable to me," I avow with a stubborn nod.

"I advise you to be open-minded."

"Normally I am," I tell him, "but this is way too far out there."

"I see," he comments, turning his gaze away. "Do you believe in the Triforce?"

_Ooh, well played, old coot_. I look at him and shrug, making my expression unreadable. "No," I say as convincingly as I can. "Gold triangles floating in heaven? Please."

"Or, resting on the back of the chosen's hand," he says, blue eyes meeting mine.

That's two well played moves, Rauru, but it still seems that I've got the upper hand. "Can't think of any world where that's possible. But I got homework to do. Are we done now?"

His gaze lingers on the stormy weather outside his window, sighs, and turns toward me. "Yes, Link, go on along," he replies, his serious tone now replaced with his usual kindness.

I begin my retreat, and nearly reach the door when he speaks again.

"Remember, Link—" I whirl around impatiently as he glances my way, wearing a grim expression. "—in this world, anything is possible."

I squint, weirded out by his cliché statement, but then roll my eyes. "Uh, okay," I say before turning and finally leaving.

* * *

"This is crazy," Dark comments, staring down timidly at the street. "I've never been on a rooftop before."

Looking his way, I tear my gaze away from Hyrule Castle standing off in the distance in the Tri District. The night air is chilly, the steady breeze carrying the pointy backs of our long caps in its wake. Clouds block all light from the stars and the moon, creating a dark and eerie atmosphere. If not for the steady glow of city lights, it would be a pitch-black night. "Vaati and I climb up to them every now and then to get a bird's-eye view of the city."

"Enough about Vaati," Dark grumbles, shooting me an irked look. "I still don't trust that Oompa Loompa."

Smirking, I ask him, "Are you jealous?"

"No!" He shakes his head rapidly, eyeing me with a stern glare. "Think about it, though. The Oompa Loompa is working with you, sure, but how do you know about his boss, Willy Wonka? For all you know, boss-man could be plotting against you."

I roll my eyes. "Can you stop with the Chocolate Factory analogies? I've met the boss. Her name's Cia and she was the one who proposed the alliance. I think you've seen her, too."

"Oh yeah," he says, eyebrows raising. "I've seen her. Anti-gravity boobs. Gotta be fake. I'm still D-T-F though." He pauses, realizing he's gotten off-topic. "But what if Cia's just another Oompa Loompa like Vaati and the other gangsters? What if Willy Wonka was someone else who's actually against you?"

"Now you're just playing the What If game," I say, rolling my eyes. "You're just mad because I'm relying on someone other than you for once."

"I'm not mad! I'm just thinking of all possible outcomes—"

"Save it," I snap, patience wearing thin. "Look down there." I point downward at something in the alley beside a skyscraper.

"But . . . Heights!"

"Just look!"

Dark's eyes drift down toward where I point, and they grow wide at the sight of a band of ten bokoblins. "Huh. That's strange. I haven't seen monsters around here in awhile."

"I know, me neither. I think the last time was Halloween."

"When Tidbit wet himself," Dark laughs, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Why would Ganondorf summon more monsters, though?" I ask.

"Well, his monsters are clearly afraid of humans, since no one really knows about them but you, me, Tidbit, Zeke, and Michael—"

"Pipit, Sheik, and Mikau," I remind him for the gazillionth time.

"—So maybe they're after you," Dark says grimly.

I shrug, looking back down at the bokoblins so far away. "Only one way to find out."

"Wait, Link, what are you—"

I leap over the edge, feeling the excitement and/or terror as the wind rushes past me.

But that excitement is cut short after one second of being suspended in the air, and I land on the highest level's fire escape.

I'm not jumping off any buildings—I'm not a complete lunatic. Truthfully, I only did it to scare Dark.

Speaking of, he pokes his head over the edge, looking straight down, eyes connecting with mine. He heaves a hefty sigh of relief, before yelling, "Link! Don't scare me like that!"

"Don't say my name, Dark!"

"You just said _mine_!"

"Yours doesn't matter!"

With that, I start my descent, skipping the stairs and taking the quicker route, jumping down one level at a time. When I hit the ground, I look back and notice that Dark, the chicken that he is, started climbing down the fire escape. That will take him like, five times as long. What a baby.

The bokoblins mill about in the alley across the road. Oddly, no cars or pedestrians are traveling on this street. Perhaps they get a bad feeling about this place. Those bokoblins are definitely about to.

I stand directly across from the hideous mob of monsters, right hand glowing. Lucky for me, at the building I'd been standing on, a discarded crowbar lies in a pile of broken glass underneath a shattered window. How incredibly conveniently located—almost like someone pulling the strings of my life had that crowbar placed exactly where I'd land. Huh. I pick it up, swing it experimentally, and set my eyes fiercely on the beasts.

Their piercing yellow eyes turn to me in unison, which is creepy as hell, finally noticing my presence. Something about these bokoblins seems . . . off, though. But what's _on_ about a pig demon?

Lurching forward with heavy limps, each pig demon creeps toward me, moving out onto the open road, attracted like moths to a light. They appear to be wearing black diapers, and their skin is a sickly purple hue, rather than their typical red skin. Slobs of drool hang down from their ravenous jaws, and they take sharp, ragged breaths. There look to be around ten of them, most of which carrying knifes, while one carries what appears to be the femur of a large animal, and one carries . . . a selfie stick. Oh, gods, of all things!

I charge the creatures, not waiting for Dark any longer. The bokoblin wielding the selfie stick dashes toward me ambitiously, swinging its—uh, _weapon_—horizontally. I raise my crowbar, blocking it, and swing vertically, smacking the pig demon on its purple head.

As it falls to the ground, more pig demons raise their makeshift weapons and lurch toward me menacingly, saliva gurgling in their maws. Gross. I summon energy to my hand, using the metal crowbar as a conductor, and shoot a bolt straight at a bokoblin's chest. It thrashes around before collapsing, and I turn to its brethren.

They definitely seem to have their minds set on killing me, I note, as I plunge the crowbar through the belly of a pig demon. Something sharp grazes my side, and I hiss in pain before turning to kick the culprit in its stupid face. It whines, drops the knife, and I ignore the pain in my side as I channel my inner Alex Rodriguez and swing the crowbar baseball-style, connecting with its temple.

"Hepatitis-C ya later!" I holler as the bokoblin goes flying.

I yelp as a blade slashes across my back, drawing out a warm substance. Whirling around, I grit my teeth and tighten my grip on my weapon, staring down the seven remaining bokoblins. They'd formed a semicircle around me, fourteen golden eyes boring into my soul.

The one who'd sliced my back stands there stupidly, almost looking guilty. I summon more energy, pointing my hand at the bokoblin, and attempt to shoot another bolt. But . . . nothing happens.

What the hell?

Confused, I race forward, crowbar poised, and swing mightily at two knife-bearing pigs. They fall backward, arms flailing, and I turn to the five others. I channel all my emotions into my attacks, feeling the rage and adrenaline course through my veins. Thoughtlessly, I rush in headfirst, wishing to see all of these abhorred monsters dead at my feet.

One swing for Agahnim repeatedly punching me in the face. The bokoblin cries out and lies dormant. A heavy smack to the temple for putting Zelda in danger. The creature wails in pain before going silent. A swing to the neck for Rusl's murder. Its bones crack audibly before it goes limp.

"Link!" Dark's voice calls from the fire escape. I can't tell how far down he's climbed, since I'm a little preoccupied. "Be careful!"

Not paying attention to him, I shove the crowbar into the chest of a pig demon. It had almost looked . . . _scared._

"Look, those aren't—You're putting yourself in danger!"

"No shit!" I yell, turning to face him indignantly. He's almost to ground level, and he's climbing down the stairs with a new sense of urgency.

I turn to address the last monster. My eyes widen before the bokoblin bludgeons me on the head with the animal femur, and I promptly fall backward onto the road. The fiend grunts triumphantly, coggling toward me slowly as I try to clear the spots from my vision.

I blink repeatedly, my eyesight dark. Deliriously, I attempt once again to summon energy from the Triforce into my hand. I try firing an electric bolt, but again, nothing happens. Swearing colorfully, I stagger to my feet, eyesight recovering at a slow pace.

The spots clear, and I can see just fine now as the bokoblin sweeps the giant bone at my legs. I hastily block it, turning the crowbar downward, but I get knocked off balance and am forced to take a couple steps back. The bokoblin takes advantage of this, swinging horizontally and striking me in my wounded side.

I yelp as pain erupts in my wound, feeling it stretch and widen, the hot liquid oozing out and staining my green tunic. I'm stumble to the ground, and the bokoblin is closing the distance between us. I raise my weapon as it does too, but my side only spills out more blood as I do so. I bite back a scream, thoughtlessly reaching toward it to pressure the wound, all while letting my guard down.

The bokoblin swings its animal bone downward, likely about to knock me out and eat me alive. But, out of nowhere, Dark leaps in front of me, letting out a battle cry as he plunges an uprooted stop sign pole into the monster's purple stomach. The last bokoblin falls onto its back, the pole still dug into its flesh, the red octagonal sign sticking straight up.

None of the creatures had exploded into the familiar cloud of smoke, I note, getting up slowly. "Thanks," I grunt to Dark, taking slow, calming breaths. The adrenaline coursing through my veins begins to simmer down, and I finally get a grasp of reality and what I just did.

I just ran headfirst into a horde of demons, alone. I earned two cuts, a potential concussion, and a gnarly-ass bruise in my ribs. I killed nine of them by myself. And I _wanted _to. I shiver at the thought.

"You're bleeding," is all Dark manages to say. He immediately takes his black cap off, hurrying over to me.

"Good observation," I snap, grimacing as he wraps the hat around both of my cuts, tying it off as a tourniquet. "And now you're gonna get blood stains on your hat."

"Better than you dying, dipshit," he retorts, standing up. His speech has taken on a serious, hasty tone. "Can you run? We need to run. Like, now."

"Yeah, I can run, but I don't see why—"

Dark's eyes flick from me to the corpses to the street laid out before us. "Link, just trust me on this. We—"

"Are you being a chicken again?" I ask him irritably.

"Link, come on!" Dark shouts with a heightened sense of urgency. He grabs my arm, beginning to drag me away from the ring of demon corpses surrounding us, but is forced to stop when they begin to stir.

Our eyes widen. One by one, the purple bokoblins rise back to their feet, like they had never been killed.

_Zombie_ pig demons!

Their yellow eyes glow with a new wildness, mouths drooling for the taste of human flesh. And they're faster. They limp toward the two of us at a quickened pace, like they're even hungrier than before.

I gulp. "Can we outrun 'em?"

They begin closing in on us as Dark and I stand back-to-back. He shakes his head, and I notice he's unarmed. "No, they have our scent now. They'll follow our tracks until they kill us, or we kill them."

"I like option two," I murmur. They're getting closer, and I ready my crowbar.

"Go for their eyes." Dark kicks an advancing creature backward. "It's gruesome, but it'll stab right into their brains." He catches a bokoblin's arm as it swings a knife, then kicks the creature away.

I do as he says, spinning away from a selfie stick swing and thrusting the crowbar's sharp end into the yellow eye of a bokoblin, and it collapses with a puff of smoke.

The selfie stick clatters to the ground in front of me, and I bend down to quickly pick it up, tossing it behind me to Dark. "Here, use this!"

He catches the selfie stick, squinting down at its chrome surface before recognizing what it is. "Gee, thanks!" he grumbles sarcastically, gripping the pointless item in his fist. "Now I feel safe!"

"We should get swords," I comment, jamming the crowbar into another pig demon's eye. I then take that monster's head, grab another's head, and shove the two together. The crowbar stabs into both bokoblins, and they both puff away. I catch the crowbar before it falls to the ground.

"Or, y'know, _guns_?!" Dark hollers over his shoulder, thrusting the selfie stick into the zombie with the stop sign sticking out of its belly. It disappears, wailing in pain.

"See? Glad I got you that weapon now?" I ask him stubbornly, turning to the femur-wielding zombie, my archenemy. Well, for tonight at least.

The bokoblin raises the giant bone, but I'm not going to tolerate it again. I lunge forward, bringing the crowbar over my head, and thrust downward into its eye, killing it instantly. Five to go.

Dark ducks as one bokoblin swings its knife over his head, and it conveniently lands in another bokoblin's eye, killing it. He leaps back up to drill his selfie stick into the betrayer's eye, spins, and stabs another. He moves with an unmatchable fluidity, almost like he's an expert of combat, like he's been doing this forever.

I wince in pain as a zombie pig lashes out with its arm, digging its short but sharp claws into my shoulder. It raises the knife, but I smack it repeatedly on the head with my crowbar until it relinquishes its grip on my shoulder. Gasping in relief from the sharp pain, I grip the bar in both hands, thrusting it over and upward, impaling the zombie straight up the eye.

"Ooh, a demon-kabob," Dark says from behind me as the monster disintegrates from my crowbar. He had taken care of the last bokoblin while I'd been occupied, and has been watching me, leaning on the selfie stick like a cane. He wears that usual mischievous smile again.

I look at him, breathing heavily, trying to calm my heart rate. We share eye contact for a brief, awkward moment.

I turn around and throw up.

* * *

"I'm gonna need my cap back."

"Here. Take it."

"Whoa, your bleeding already stopped!"

"One of the few perks of being cursed by the goddesses. Quick healing. Still hurts like a bitch though, and it'll leave a nasty scar."

"We should probably change before climbing up there."

"Shoot, I nearly forgot. Sheik would have found out about us."

We stand outside the boys' dorm building, below my room, 3B. Dark hastily digs into his backpack, retrieving his normal clothes, and begins to strip down from his combat gear.

I cover my eyes. "Whoa, what're you doing?"

"Changing."

"Out in the open?"

He turns his head in a three-sixty before back to me. "Do you see anybody around here?"

I reluctantly change as well, quickly changing into my khakis and my blue jacket, the cold night air nipping bitterly at my bare skin as I do so. Once set, I begin my ascent to the third level window, vaulting off 1B's windowsill, then 2B's, before clinging onto 3B's and peering inside.

I'm about to climb up and in to land inside on my bed, but I freeze, hearing voices. Dark stays on the ground, looking up at me expectantly.

"D-did you hear that?"

Zelda. That's her voice.

"Hear what?" Sheik asks.

"I . . . thought I heard something out the window."

I gulp, ready to drop down if I absolutely need to.

"Relax, Zelda. Link isn't here, and he won't be. He goes on these late night walks a lot."

Sighing in relief, I peer inside daringly, observing the dorm. Sheik sits on his bed, facing the window I'm at, and Zelda stands near the foot of it.

"I know, but . . . " Zelda's eyes show that she knows something Sheik doesn't. "He could easily be . . . " She trails off, biting her lip and looking away. She's always done that.

Sheik brushes Zelda's moment of pondering off, asking her, "What was it you were saying?"

Zelda looks his way, pausing. " . . . R-right. I, uh, haven't told my father that I know."

"That you know what?"

"That we're . . . related," Zelda says, murmuring the last word quietly, nearly inaudibly.

Sheik scoffs. "Really? Why? I'd expect you to confront him and make this big spiel about honesty or somethin'."

"I tried, but . . . " Zelda sighs. "It's uncomfortable for me. It's weird to talk about something like that with your dad."

"I could tell him you know, if you want," Sheik offers with a shrug.

"No, please don't," Zelda rebuffs, shaking her head. "That would just make it more awkward."

"How?"

Zelda exhales deeply. "Because I'd know he wouldn't know I know, and then he'd know I know, and he'd know I know without telling him I know. . . . You know?"

Sheik blinks. "You lost me at '_know_.'"

Zelda smiles, but it's quick to fade.

"Besides," Sheik says, palms raised upward, "if you just explain the whole thing to your father, everything would be solved."

"But then I'd make him feel guilty for not telling the truth," Zelda says compassionately.

"Alright, Zelda, tell him when you want to. But you can't delay it forever, because one day I'm gonna throw my arm around both Malon and you, and when he sees that, your father's gonna be asking some questions."

Zelda laughs lightly, making my heart flutter—_Stop, Link_. "Alright, well," she says, "I should get going before, um . . . he shows up."

"Zelda?"

She turns. "Yeah?"

"If it helps, after what you and I have been through . . . You're not hot."

"Gee, thanks."

Sheik's eyes widen. "No, wait! That—that wasn't supposed to be mean, it was supposed to be symbolic, like, like I now think of you as my sister! And I—"

Zelda raises a hand, giggling quietly. "Save it, Sheiky. I know."

Sheik grins, sighing. "Alright. See ya, sis."

Zelda cringes. "Uh . . . No. Too soon." With that, she turns and leaves, the door shutting softly behind her.

I then open the window, climbing up and over, before landing face-first on my bed.

"Link?!" Sheik shouts, standing up abruptly.

I sit up, looking at him wide-eyed.

"Wha—Were you spying on us?!"

"Maybe a little bit."

Soon thereafter, Dark tumbles in, crashing down on top of me. I groan in pain from my sore wounds as he looks around obliviously. "What'd I miss?"

I shove Dark off of me, and he yelps as he stumbles to the floor. "Sorry, Sheiky," I say, using Zelda's new nickname for him, "we were just on a late night walk."

"Is your ass jealous of all the shit that comes outta your mouth?" Sheik asks incredulously, glaring at me with suspicion. "Honestly—you're out like every night. I swear you're hiding something from us."

I look at him for awhile, calculating a sly response, before speaking. "Sometimes I have more important stuff to do."

"Gods, Link," Sheik grumbles. "If you're gonna be two-faced, at least make one of them look good."

Dark raises his hand. "He is two-faced, and I'm that good-looking face."

"Shut up," I grumble at him.

"Hey! I saved your life tonight; you'll treat me with respect!"

"Wait—" Sheik's eyes widen. "Saved your life? You're putting your life in danger?"

I shrug, then lie back onto my bed. "Maybe a little bit. G'night, Sheiky."

"You're so uptight," Dark comments to Sheik as he stands up, yawning and stretching, before plopping down emphatically on the couch. "Chillax once in awhile, bro-beans."

With that, I roll over, wincing in pain from my injuries, and attempt to get some sleep. Finally, my eyelids droop shut, and I'm sent into a deep, much-needed slumber.

And nightmares plague my mind all throughout.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not affiliated with Mod Pizza. Yeah that's a real food chain here in the states. You'll see why I used it eventually. I believe I'm allowed to put it in my story. Don't sue me.**

**Let me know your thoughts, predictions, questions, rants, criticism, feelings, suggestions, anything.**

**Please review! Y'all are my home-dogs.**

**~SL43**

**PULL UP, NORTH KOREA**


	17. Stoic

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Part of this chapter was hard to write, because I loved last chapter so much that I was always comparing the two and felt like this wasn't good enough. Plus my ADHD doesn't exactly help me out with focusing. Hey, look, a dog!**

**And we made it to 300! YAAASS! That's a lot, considering it's out of just 16 chapters. That means 18.75 reviews per chapter on average. 18.75! Yes I did the math because I'm pathetic like that. But regardless, THANK YOU ALL! (Shout-out to Panther1220 for being my 300th!)**

**HUGE thanks to chapter 16 reviewers: ZJohnson, DemonKingGanondorf, TheChargingRhino, HashtagJeMa, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, Guest #1, Gerrard, Marco, ItalicsAlex, J, Infernal Flame Zero, nintendoer27, Guest #2, Captain Toon, Me (not actually me), ZeldaRules, Amarok Walker, Kim Jong-un (lol), Bella, BadRomComWrites, Awesome Anon, Immortal Fierce Dragon, NamoraisLIFE, FierceDeityLinkMask, Guest #3, Home dog, and Panther1220! Y'ALL ROCK :D**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**Dark tackled Vaati, thinking he was in the M.O.D., but Link explained that they had teamed up. At Mod Pizza, Link and his buddies realized that Mikau and Lulu had gotten back together. At school, Rauru called Link in to see him after school, and explained he thought Link was chosen by the goddesses to be the answer to the city's call for help. Link denied it, to protect his identity of Hero. That night, Link killed a pack of zombie bokoblins, earning injuries to his back, shoulder, side, and head. Dark gave him his hat as a tourniquet, and they returned to the dorm, where Zelda and Sheik were talking. Link eavesdropped through the window while Zelda explained that she hasn't told her father that she knew she was Sheik's half-sister. Sheik bid her farewell, and when she left, Link and Dark tumbled inside.**_

Guest #2: If at all, it would be after I finish this, whenever that is. But I really don't know… I'm sorry :(

Awesome Anon: It's possible. No promises though ;)

**There will be a few more chapters that will build up the plot, before we get to the real plot-heavy stuff. To quote the Kool-aid man, "Oh yeah."**

**Read along and review please!**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 17: Stoic**

* * *

There it lay. The triangle. Planted firmly on a stone pedestal in the back of the grand, circular room. How incredibly anticlimactic, the man thought.

He found it ignorant of King Gustaf to believe the relic belonged solely to the Princess of Destiny and her bloodline. His Majesty did not, however, think of the loophole. The man laughed, a wicked, raspy cackle.

Now he just needed to find the harp.

Grinning wolfishly, the man took heavy steps toward the pedestal, eager to acquire the second part to this three-piece puzzle. Power was given. Wisdom will be taken. Courage would be found, eventually.

He froze, round ears perking up, at the sound of movement. His fingers silently curled around the pistol in his suit jacket, and his golden eyes flicked from left to right. For a moment, all was still.

But then, the walls to either side of him lifted up, revealing two large sets of black armor, larger than him, carrying imposing broadswords. Darknuts, they were called. They stood there, dormant, and the man frowned.

As he took an experimental step toward the relic, they sprang to life, just as the man expected. He smiled wickedly, craving a challenge.

What he didn't expect, though, was their incredible agility and strength that rivaled his own.

The man withdrew his pistol, pointing it at each of the darknuts, but they refused to back down. He aimed at the opening in the left one's helmet, where its face was cloaked in shadows, and pulled the trigger. As the gun fired loudly, the bullet disappeared within the helmet, but didn't seem to hit home, because the knight kept marching.

The man scrunched his large nose in frustration, taking steps back so he was no longer sandwiched between the two knights. He returned the pistol to his suit jacket, deeming it useless, and decided instead to use his bare hands and raw power.

One darknut broke its pattern and charged forward with unbridled speed, sword pointed at the man's heart. He sidestepped, bringing his foot up to the darknut's helmet with a mighty kick. It voiced no pain as it recoiled, but swung the sword again. This time, the man was sliced in the back.

Angrily, the man raced forward, gripping underneath the helmet of the darknut and lifting it up, while restraining its sword arm with his other hand. The man bellowed as he threw the knight toward the wall, and it sagged to the floor in a heap of metal.

A blade then pierced his back and rammed through his stomach. The man made no sound as his golden eyes fell to the broadsword sticking out of him. He craned his neck to see the other darknut, dutiful and expressionless, holding the hilt. And, lips stretching into a wicked smile, the man broke out into malicious laughter.

The darknut stared at him, unfazed by the man's crazed behavior, and withdrew his sword, believing its duty was done. Crimson blood welled up on the fabric of the man's suit.

"There he is!" a voice shouted urgently.

Men filed in from behind, forming a circle to surround the wounded man. His breath was ragged as he observed the scene. The guards, protected with bulletproof vests and carrying assault rifles, stood rigidly around him. He sensed their fear.

One particularly bold guard, likely the captain, raised his voice at the man. "State your name and business in Hyrule Castle!"

The man watched with mild interest as the darknuts receded into their hiding spots, having completed their duty. He turned to the guards, clenched his teeth and held his jaw high, even as the blood poured out of his wound. "I am Ganondorf Dragmire," he announced in a booming voice. He wanted the whole world to know his name. "You know where I am. Therefore you know my business."

The captain looked confused. "This room is highly restricted and accessible only to the royal bloodline!"

"You didn't do the best job of protecting it," he said dryly, indicating to the stacks of bodies he'd been responsible for in order to get here.

The men raised their weapons at Ganondorf. "We have authorization to engage!" a different man shouted. Turning to him, the man merely laughed.

If he were killed… that would not be a major issue. But it would waste time. His plan needed to be initiated. After a brief moment of pondering, he decided he didn't need to use the loophole; he'd still get the triangular relic later. If he had Power, then Courage and Wisdom would come to him. He had no doubt about it.

So Ganondorf turned and ran.

"Engage!" the captain yelled, and a torrent of bullets sprayed toward the escaping man as he bolted out of the room.

Ganondorf ignored the rounds that lodged themselves in his back, and focused entirely on evacuating Hyrule Castle. How foolish of him to toy with the darknuts and give an opportunity for backup to come; he should have grabbed the relic and ran. And now, it will be even more heavily-guarded, and he could not afford to be killed. There was no time for death.

Ganondorf felt the weight of his wounds catching up to him, albeit a lot slower than they would to a normal man. But he was no normal man.

He dashed through the halls, striking down curious guards with his fists as he went, before exiting the castle. Moonlight gleamed in his eyes as he weaved through the castle grounds, beginning to lose his pursuers. Finally making it to the eastern wall, Ganondorf crept out through the small hole he'd carved out of the stone, and thus, he was safe.

With a sigh of relief, albeit laced with an air of annoyance, Ganondorf touched his hand gently to his stomach wound. Pulling his arm away in a sharp tug, he stared contemptuously down at the scarlet fluid trickling down his dark fingers.

He had to see the witches. His injuries began to hurt; Ganondorf hated to admit that he felt pain. Being sliced, stabbed through the stomach, and shot five times, however, was no picnic. But he knew the twin witches would heal him with ease.

Straightening his black tie, the man walked determinedly down the sidewalks of the Tri District, suit stained crimson from his own blood.

.-:—:—:-.

The man was now standing alone outside in the crisp October air, a week after having failed his heist at Hyrule Castle. His eyes were trained on an edifice that housed a large billboard, where a sketch of his face was plastered next to bold, prominent text reading:_ Public Enemy Number One_. He smiled darkly, reveling in the fear he invoked.

The man had felt a strong urge to search Market Street for something he had been looking for. It was likely that damned shadow being that he'd summoned through the portal, who had escaped his clutches and scurried away. He clenched his fist angrily at the thought. He hated when things did not go as planned.

He stood across the street from an unimpressive convenient store, composed of a flickering sign and dirty walls. He'd seen a kid go in there earlier, and his right hand throbbed at the sight of him.

Maybe _he_ was the shadow. Perhaps the shadow had already taken on the form of a human. That had to be why his Power hand was throbbing like mad.

He followed the kid, willing the double doors open with a forceful shove. The kid was there, arguing with the cashier, a bag of carrots on the counter. At first glance, the man decided that the kid could not be the shadow; he was too tan, had blue eyes instead of red, and lacked the color black altogether. He found that pale skin, scarlet irises, and black clothing were typical traits among shadow beings.

If the boy was not the shadow, then why did Ganondorf feel drawn to him?

The boy's eyes flicked up to the imposing man, widening immediately. He then grimaced, hastily grabbing at his hand with an agonized expression.

The man was confused. "What is the matter with you?" he demanded, ash-gray skin wrinkled in a frown.

The boy tried to look up at him once more, but he yelped and grabbed at his hand again.

The way the boy reacted evoked a sense of familiarly in the man's mind and triggered a vivid memory. The memory of the night he had discovered he was the bearer of Power. His mouth fell open, jaw unhinged. He knew what was the matter with the boy.

"It is you.…" the man mumbled, golden eyes growing wide. "I've found you."

There was Courage.

* * *

Saturday, November 17th

I jolt awake with a splitting headache, lying in a pool of sweat. Quickly sitting up, I begin looking around deliriously.

I was him.

I was Ganondorf. I was_ him_, and I saw myself. That dreadful night. The worst night of my life. I was my uncle's murderer on his last night alive.

The thought of it is nauseating.

Not only was I him, but I somehow, someway, had access to his thoughts. He seemed to be looking for a triangle in Hyrule Castle, also something about a harp.… That had to be the night—the first night I'd envisioned, specifically—that Ganondorf became a wanted man.

When he had first seen me, he thought I was Dark, who he aims to capture. That's why he came after me in the first place, apparently. But then he realized I was the bearer of Courage, because Power had resonated from his hand. He wants my Triforce.

And if he was looking for a triangle back in the castle, could that triangle have been Wisdom, the third piece of the puzzle?

The whole thing makes my head spin.

Sunlight peeks over the horizon and spills into the dorm, temporarily blinding me as it seeps through the window shades. I raise my arm to shield my eyes, but stop abruptly, yelping as pain erupts in my shoulder.

Frantically, I lift up the hem of my shirt and toss it to the floor. Looking down, I notice that my cuts have scabbed over, the raw skin stinging to the touch. But that isn't what had caused my sudden pain. I flick my eyes to my shoulder wound, where that bokoblin from last night had raked its claws through the skin. The wound itself had crusty black scabs with raw purple skin surrounding them.

Infected, undoubtedly. I again fight the urge to vomit.

"Sheik," I whisper, testing to see if he's awake. He isn't. I huff, slowly getting off the bed and staggering over to him, wincing at the pain from my cuts. "Sheik," I say louder, nudging his shoulder.

He lies with his limbs sprawled out in various directions, blonde hair a shaggy mess, chest rising and falling steadily. "_Mn ghrnmgh_," he mumbles incoherently. "Five more… minutes…"

When I flick him on the nose, his abruptly eyes snap open. "Sheik, I need to ask you something."

His eyes drift to the alarm clock behind me. "…At six-thirty AM? Link, you went to bed at two-thirty.…"

_Though I didn't sleep much_, I say mentally. I flick him again as his eyelids begin to droop, earning an irate growl. "Who's a good doctor around here?" I inquire.

"Doctor…?"

"You know—doctor. Medic. Healer. This is kindergarten vocabulary we're dealing with here."

"Shut up. I'm tired."

"All those late-night fantasies about your sister must finally be catching up to you."

"_Half_-sister, Link. And fuck you."

"Answer my question," I say, cutting to the chase. "I could be dying, here."

"You know, that might not be so bad. I wouldn't have to tolerate you waking me up this early. Or your smart-ass jokes." He sits up in his bed finally, looking at me with a groggy squint in his eyes. He views my cuts, brows rising. "What the hell happened to you?"

"...I went to the zoo. Now—doctor?" I prompt.

He eyes me sternly, knowing quite well that I had lied to him. "Well—Rauru fixed my broken arm when I'd gotten into a fight with Groose back in freshman year. Go see him."

"There isn't a nurse at this school?"

"No. We're not a school full of pussies."

I squint. "A school full of Sheiks?"

He points a finger firmly toward the door. "Leave already." Then Sheik rolls over and buries his head beneath the pillow.

With that, I promptly leave, making sure to slam the door as loudly as possible for Sheik's benefit. From inside, he emits a rather profane selection of vocabulary. I smirk to myself.

_Go see Rauru_. Gotta admit, not my first choice. After what he said to me yesterday, how he thought "the goddesses chose me as the answer to our city's cry for help," I don't feel comfortable around that geezer. He thinks I'm a bearer of the Triforce, and he's right, but I'm not going confirm his assumption. Hell no.

No matter what, though, my shoulder hurts like hell, so I need to get it fixed. But what if zombie-pig-demon-claw wounds aren't Rauru's specialty? Maybe he's only good for repairing shattered arms, and boring his students to death.

The trip to Rauru's class is eerily quiet and uneventful. The dorm hallways are practically empty, and the soft rainfall is my only companion outdoors. I hurry through the courtyard, hood pulled over my head, and arrive at the main academy building.

Inside, no noise is made except for that of a janitor wheeling a garbage can through the halls. That's when I realize the very high chance that Rauru isn't even here. Well, might as well check anyway.

I take the familiar route to his classroom, my steps echoing throughout the empty halls. Later, when I arrive outside his door, I peek in through the small window. Surprisingly, luckily, Rauru is there. He stands in the middle of the room, dormant, eyelids resting closed.

Frowning in confusion, I knock on the door before opening it. "Mr. Lux?" I call, hesitantly entering.

Rauru's eyes snap open, and he scrambles toward his desk. "Oy!—I was only finishing my—" He pauses, eyes falling on me. "Link?"

I look at him suspiciously. "…Am I interrupting anything?"

"Ah, no, Mr. Gaiden, you aren't."

I look at him skeptically, but decide to drop it for more pressing matters. "I need your help," I say. After quickly removing my jacket, I pull my shirt sleeve up, revealing to him my horrid wound.

Rauru's eyes widen immediately, and he walks to my side to get a better look. "My goddesses, Link, what happened?"

"I, uh—"

"I'd recognize this wound anywhere.… Link, when did you come into contact with the undead?"

So he must know about all these monsters running around, huh?

I offer an aloof shrug, telling him, "Oh, y'know, the Grim Reaper, Frankenstein, Dracula, and I meet up every Friday over coffee to catch up."

He ignores my sarcastic comment, gaze falling back down. "Claws.… Was this the work of a cursed bokoblin?"

I resume my oblivious act from yesterday, responding, "If that's what you call those zombie pig things, then yeah."

"Cursed bokoblins," he corrects, meeting my eyes. "Only perishable by striking the brain." He strokes his voluminous white mustache with a calloused hand, looking at me pensively. "Did… did you kill them?"

He's giving me that look again, that suspicious look that shows he assumes something. What will he think if I tell him I killed those bokoblins? Will he only further suspect that I possess a piece of the Triforce? Probably, because those zombies were pretty damn hard to kill. A normal person may not have been able to.

So I scoff adamantly. "No, I ran away."

I can see the confusion and frustration presenting on his countenance, and I fight the urge to smirk at my small victory. This is all a battle of words.

Rauru then sighs and reaches into his pack, pulling out a corked glass bottle filled with an unidentifiable red liquid. "Here," he says, handing me the bottle.

I eye it skeptically. "What is this, Powerade?"

"Red potion. It will help."

I swirl it around experimentally, noting its thickness, and remove the cork. I quickly take a swig, nearly gagging at the strong taste of cherries. "Ugh!" I immediately separate my lips from the bottle. "That's disgusting!"

He shrugs. "It's an acquired taste."

"Well it better work," I grumble, reluctantly taking another drink.

"It will heal it for now, yes. But I'm afraid that's a dark magic wound."

I down the last of the liquid, leaving a nasty aftertaste. Gradually, the painful stinging begins to fade. "Dark magic?" I repeat in a curious tone.

Rauru's lips twinge slightly upward, a hint of a smile. "You're not going to stubbornly refuse to believe me, like usual?"

I shrug offhandedly. "No, I kinda have a life-threatening injury right now, so I've decided to just roll with it."

"Good choice," Rauru says. "As I was saying, this was the work of dark magic, used by the undead and those who control them. You'll need light magic to counteract it."

"And where am I gonna get that?"

"From me," he states simply.

My eyes widen. "You're a magician?"

"Of sorts."

Huh. Never would I have thought that Rauru has been able to use magic. I thought he was just some boring old geezer. But now, I guess he's a _magical_ boring old geezer. "Then what are you waiting for?" I prompt.

He bites his lip, eyeing me nervously. "It will hurt." Rauru rolls up his sleeves, hovering his hands over my wound. They seem to start glowing, much to my dismay.

Just who is this guy?

"I'll be fine," I assure him, jaw tightening in trepidation.

Rauru sighs, and I force my eyes away as he begins. Immediately a white hot burning sensation comes into contact with my wounded skin, and I bite back a scream, squeezing my eyes shut. "HOLY—!" I stop myself from cursing, biting and drawing blood from my bottom lip.

Seconds later, relief washes over me as the heat dies down. I slowly peek an eye open to view my shoulder. The black sludge stuff is all gone, disappeared. Instead, the skin still displays claw marks, but red rather than black, and the flesh around the wound is pink.

"I'm surprised you came here on a Saturday," he comments idly as I gaze at my healed flesh.

"I needed to check if you were here," I reply with an honest shrug. "Plus I could say the same for you. What teacher stands in the middle of his empty classroom on the weekend and meditates? Are you a hippy?"

"No. I come here because it's a quiet place to attend to my other business."

"Are you gonna tell me what that other business is?"

"Not yet."

I frown.

"This goes without saying, of course, but you will keep this whole thing a secret, correct?"

I look at him weirdly, pausing for a moment. "I guess so."

"Good." Rauru nods approvingly. "I can tell you my secrets, you can tell me yours."

Sending subliminal messages now, eh, Rauru?

I scoff at him. "I'll bet you won't be interested in typical teenager secrets."

Rauru picks up the bottle I'd reluctantly and disgustingly emptied, placing it in his pack and trading it in for a pair of thin glasses. "And I'll bet your secrets are far from typical teenager secrets," he tells me assuredly, donning the eyewear.

He's not wrong, of course. "What makes you think that? You don't think I'm normal?"

"Abnormality is nothing to be ashamed of," Rauru asserts, quite philosophically. "In fact, uniqueness should be strived for. If everyone were normal, we'd be one in the same."

I squint. "I don't speak fortune cookie."

With a sigh, Rauru returns to his desk, closing his laptop. "I was teaching a deep life lesson to ironically make a joke."

"…Then you really should work on your sense of humor."

Raising his eyebrows, Rauru folds his arms over his chest. "And yours is superior? Unfiltered, impolite sarcasm?"

I shrug innocently. "I'm unique."

Rolling his eyes peevishly, the history teacher emits a hopeless huff. "Gods, help me.…"

"I heard that."

"That was intended."

With an irked scowl, I cross my arms.

"As I was saying, Link," he begins, "you're not a normal person. I think you know that, yet you're hiding the truth from me."

And again, he's right.

"I believe, as I said before, you are the answer to our kingdom's cry for help." He nods affirmatively, a no-nonsense look in his eyes.

"_Kingdom_?" I question, eyebrows raising. "Yesterday you said _city_."

"I fear…" He inhales deeply, then exhales, "…that our issues will be on a much grander scale."

I look down pensively, a recent memory promptly resurfacing in my mind.

_"The main difference between our gangs, you see," said Vaati, pointing at the castle while maintaining eye contact with me, "is that Cia wants to kill Ganondorf and rule the streets. Ganondorf wants to kill the king and rule the world."_

I keep my expression unreadable, before looking up at his expectant gaze. "Who do you think I am?" I snap indignantly. "All I care about is justice for my uncle. That's all that matters to me."

"Or maybe you never planned on having deep connections after that traumatic event," Rauru begins, his eyes steadily locked with mine, "and now you have. And maybe you are in denial now, because that scares you, because you do not want to be hurt again."

I freeze, my whole body going rigid, and gaze at him with wide, unblinking eyes. He struck nerves that I had no idea he was capable of striking, without him even knowing he had stricken them. Sweet Din.…

"Are you telling me," he says, raising his voice, "that if our kingdom was in peril and you were the only one able to save it, you would not?"

I stand there, motionless, for a long moment. Finally, eyes narrowed at his, I tell him in a voice barely louder than a whisper, "Well I'm no hero."

I turn and leave.

* * *

_"Or maybe you never planned on having deep connections after that traumatic event…"_ —Uncle Rusl's unmoving body, his blood spilling out of that gunshot wound, why couldn't I SAVE HIM— _"…and now you have."_ —Zelda, Zelda Harkinian, the girl I love but CAN'T— _"And maybe you are in denial now…"_ —focus on your uncle's case, nothing else matters, just GET YOUR REVENGE— _"…because that scares you..."_ —Zelda cannot be harmed, I need to stay the hell away from her— _"…because you do not want to be hurt again."_ —I wouldn't be able to live with myself because HER DEATH WOULD BE ON MY HANDS—

"Link?" a voice calls.

I turn around at its striking familiarity, my mental fit dissipating as I begin to regain my composure. Taking calming breaths, I set my eyes on the figure standing behind me on the sidewalk.

"Are you alright?" Shad asks me, concern in his eyes.

I nod slowly.

He approaches, asking, "What are you doing here?"

I furrow my eyebrows, turning my head to survey my surroundings. I stand before the storefront of a red Chinese restaurant, a sign depicting a dragon hanging from its awning. Masses of people shuffle around me impatiently as I stand in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot, and a few bikers whiz past the pair of us. Billboards advertising law firms and auto dealers line the edifices across the street, slightly shorter in height compared to those in the heart of the city. I now realize, observing the area with a lost look in my eyes, that I've never been here before. Where even am I?

I must've let my feet take control again.

"I, uh…" Biting my lip, I turn my gaze back to Shad. "I dunno."

The young man squints his chestnut-colored eyes, visibly confused. "You're almost out of Castle Town," he says.

"What?" I ask, blinking my dismay.

Shad pauses, then affirms with a guarded nod, "Yeah. About half a mile that way—" He points a finger in the general direction I'd been heading. "—is the city limit."

My gaze falls. How long had I been walking? Was I so far lost in my thoughts that I lost control? Have I been so wrapped up in my emotions lately that I'm now losing my mind?

Shad takes a step toward me, eyeing me peculiarly, and taps my shoulder to get my attention. "Are you okay?"

His question only confuses me more. I don't know if I'm okay. What's even okay anymore?

Noticing how long it takes me to formulate a response, Shad exhales deeply. "Alright. I feared this would happen to you eventually, Link. Come along with me." Placing a hand on my shoulder, he leads me eastward, the way I'd been walking.

"What… what're you doing?" I find myself asking.

"I just got off work," he says, "so I'm walking to my bus stop to head back home, to Eldinburg. And I think you and I have some things to address, so I'm inviting you to my home."

"It seems more like you're taking me there."

"More or less." Shad shrugs, brushing past a short man in a green top hat. "But certainly not against your will. If you would like to leave, then by all means."

I consider walking away, going back to my dorm, but turn my gaze up to the sky and its impending sunset—Din, I'd been walking forever. Anyway, in my current state of mind, I cannot fend for myself against whatever creatures that lurk at night, out to capture or kill me.

So, I decide, and huff a response: "Fine, I'll go with you."

Shad beams, elbowing me in my side. I wince in pain, having just been sliced by a knife in that exact spot. "Don't sound so obligated," he says. "It's a great place."

I eye him skeptically, from his awkward pairing of a crimson jacket and green pants to his argyle socks and tan shoes. Looking straight through his taped-together spectacles, I tell him in a bland tone, "I'm sure it's a real bachelor pad."

With a shrug of modesty, Shad laughs. "You could say that again."

"If I did, I'd be lying twice."

He frowns.

I point to the badge that is pinned to his half-buttoned jacket. "Are you sure you're a detective? You can't even detect sarcasm."

Shad rolls his eyes.

Maybe I'm feeling a bit better. Our idle banter has indeed lifted my spirits and taken my mind off of things, somewhat. Due to that, I'm grateful for Shad's company. I don't take a liking to the negative thoughts that plague my mind during my time alone.

Maybe it's the presence of another that brings me back down to earth.

The trek to the bus stop lasts only a couple minutes longer, and we catch it right on time. "It's only a ten minute ride," Shad tells me as I follow him inside, squeezing through the masses of people.

The pair of us eventually find an open space beside a stout man in a business suit, and settle in there for the ride, holding onto the handrail. The bus sets off to go, creaking under its weight, and I suddenly get this sinking feeling in my gut. I cannot seem to place what triggered it, and now my hand begins to tingle.

I feel a set of eyes scrutinizing the pair of us, but as I survey the bus, I find no reason for suspicion. My gaze then lands upon a poster on one of the walls, with bold, dark text reading: Wanted for Questioning.

A sketch of Hero's frontal profile is situated right below that text. I gulp uneasily.

Granted, the person depicted appears to look hardly like me; the jawline is a little too thin, and they made my ears larger than usual. But, they got what matters correct: the black mask, and the green cap. That's what the public remembers, after all.

Eventually, the ten minutes pass, and Shad and I gratefully exit, followed by a few others, into the city of Eldinburg. I inhale the fresh evening air as the bus drives away, following Shad as he leads me down the sidewalk.

The sun dips down until it is concealed behind a massive mountain in the distance, painting the sky a pale yellow. The boulevard is lined with quaint shops and buildings not nearly as tall as those in Castle Town, but still impressive in their own right. Fewer cars zoom by, and the mixed stench of urine and carbon dioxide I've grown used to is virtually nonexistent here. I look around with a glimmer of excitement in my eyes, quite interested with the town.

Children run about at play, and couples walk their dogs on leashes. Though seen once in awhile, both of those are rare in the big city. Eldinburg boasts such a homey, tranquil vibe that it's no wonder why I've heard it's chosen by many as a place to settle down and live out the rests of their lives in.

From what I've seen, which admittedly isn't much, I like it. It's an Ordonian-like Castle Town, if you will. Maybe after everything I feel necessary has all been settled and taken care of, provided that I don't die, I could consider living out the remainder of my days here.

_But with who?_ I find myself asking mentally.

You already know the answer.

_Zelda, Zelda, Zelda. That's all you think about, y'know?_

Yes, I know. I'm you—and me. Here I am holding a conversation with myself.

_How pathetic._

So are you.

_How are you gonna settle down here with Zelda, when Zelda hates your guts?_

Well, I figured that the only reason keeping us apart was the fact that I have dangerous enemies. If I jail all of them, then that problem goes away.

_And you think she's going to forgive you?_

…I suppose I haven't thought of that.

_Yes you have, because I'm you, remember? Suppose you jail all your enemies in about a year's time. Who's to say Zelda hasn't moved on and found another dude to be with by then, hmm?_

"You like it here?" Shad's voice suddenly cuts in.

I blink vigorously to return from the adverse thoughts running rampant in my mind. I tear my gaze from the little shops and turn to offer Shad a nod. "Yeah, it's… nice," I say, for lack of a better description.

I suddenly get that feeling again. That strange, sinking feeling in my gut that makes my hand tingle. Something's off, though I can't tell what.

"You look stressed," Shad comments idly. "What's wrong?"

I turn myself in a circle, searching for some sign of perturbation. A little boy chases a girl with laughter. A street performer plays his guitar, singing a country tune. A young, dark-haired woman behind me peeks through a shop's window at its merchandise. Nothing seems to be wrong. So what's my problem?

"I… have a bad feeling," I murmur quietly.

Shad knits his eyebrows, confused, but assures me, "It'll go away."

I hope he's right.

We walk. I keep myself focused on the scenery rather than that bad feeling or my tumultuous thoughts.

_Good luck,_ my mind says.

I'm totally losing it, aren't I?

_No, I'm not. You are._

That's what I—I'm you!

_Maybe you should see a psychiatrist._

We both should.

_Agreed_.

"We'll get there in five minutes or so," states Shad. I nod my response, but he doesn't see.

"Oh, it'll be a bit longer than that," says a foreign voice.

Piqued, I turn around to address the person, only to be met with a sucker-punch to the face. I yelp in pain as I feel the skin on my nose split open and start to bleed, falling back onto the pavement.

Never had I felt a punch that dealt such pain. It lacked brute force, but used that in its favor and focused solely on finesse; the placement and aim of the strike was enough to knock me off my feet and stun me for a considerable period of time.

"Now that was fun," the voice purrs, sounding very feminine.

Oh, gods. Good thing Dark isn't here. He would never let me live this down. I can imagine his taunting laughter and mocking shouts of _You got beat up by a girl!_

I blink, clearing the spots from my vision, and look up from my downed position.

"Drop your weapon!" Shad shouts, pointing a CTPD-issued handgun at the knife-bearing woman. "I don't want any death!"

I then turn to view the woman. My eyes widen as they land on one of my biggest enemies, Veran Black. I grit my teeth. I really, really hate this bitch.

Veran's face contorts into a pout. "But where's the fun in that?"

Shad gulps, visibly nervous, as he aims the weapon at her with a shaky grip. Veran notices his hesitation to take action, and deems him virtually harmless to her, and instead turns to me.

"I know you killed Sakon, Hero."

I shuffle to my feet, wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand. I fix my eyes on her with a threatening look, baring my teeth in anger. "And what makes you think I won't do the same to you?"

She grins wickedly, tossing a clump of navy-blue hair over her shoulder. "The fact that I'm not at Hyrule Academy, where you and all your friends live."

I flinch, eyes widening. "You—?"

"You forgot, didn't you?" Veran asks. "You forgot that I know all about you, _Link Gaiden_. That's your biggest fear, isn't it? The M.O.D. coming to destroy and pillage your school and harm all those you hold dear?"

Remaining silent, I swallow the giant lump that had formed in my throat. She's trying to intimidate me. And it's working.

"Although, I can't reprimand you for forgetting." Veran offhandedly admires her long, black-polished nails, filing them on occasion with her knife. "The truth is, I did, too."

I blink, feeling rather dumbfounded. "You seriously forgot your most important lead on me, your gang's target, when you could've gone to the place I live any day of the week to come and capture me?"

"No," she states calmly, "I simply forgot to tell Lord Dragmire about it."

"Oh," I say dumbly, pausing for a moment. "You know, it seems more like our entire lives are scripted and whoever controls us just forgot to kill you off for the sake of the plot."

Veran stares at me. "…I don't even know how to respond to that." She then scoffs. "You think this meeting between you and I is just to cover some plot hole?"

I nod. "Could be."

The woman laughs. "Well, you're not wrong—this meeting is definitely about holes." She points the knife at me, raising an eyebrow with a daring smirk gracing her lips. "The holes I'm going to cut open."

Shad's eyes dart back and forth between me and Veran, teeth chattering in fear. "M-ma'am, I'm not going to ask you again—drop your weapon!" Tones of authority and intimidation interchange throughout his dutiful command, leaving Veran to merely laugh at him.

"I'd like to see you make me." She takes threatening steps toward him, a sadistic grin across her dark lips.

My eyes suddenly land upon a manhole cover in the middle of the sidewalk, and I watch as Veran steps over and past it.

Shad treads backward cautiously. "I-I don't take pride in fighting women," he states meekly, trying to keep his eyes fierce.

I emit a strangled cry as I hurl the heavy manhole cover straight at the advancing woman, and it connects with the back of her head with an audible thud. She cripples to the ground, eyelids drooping.

We stand still, heaving breaths of relief.

Veran lies dormant, face-down, a prominent bump already forming underneath her thick head of hair. I detect the steady rise and fall of her breathing, and conclude that she is alive. Although I did threaten her life, I don't think I would have been able to live with myself knowing I'd killed another.

But I'm going to have to learn to. I'm not letting Ganondorf live.

"That was terrifying," Shad breathes, clicking on the safety option of his handgun and returning it to his jacket.

I can't help but to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

I shrug offhandedly, looking away, not bothering to explain.

To think that, a couple months ago before my life was turned upside down, I would have reacted to this situation just how Shad just did. He's a detective, but he hasn't been in half of the danger that I've been in. It makes me think about how far I've come. And maybe the strong and unfazed version of myself is not someone I'm proud of becoming.

_"You're quiet lately," Dark commented, turning to offer me a concerned look._

_"I've been talking to you," I replied._

_He shrugged. "But with less emotion. It's like your personality is gone."_

_"How so?" I asked, gaze downcast._

_"You're not the usual witty, smart-ass Link. The one who makes fun of everyone with the utmost confidence and savagery." A brief smile splayed out across his lips, but was quick to fall._

"This is Detective Shad Sterling of CTPD," Shad says into his cell, his voice cutting through my sudden memory. "An alleged gang member has just been incapacitated on Fourth and Mountainview Street. I request backup from the Eldinburg Police, stat." He pockets the phone, turning to offer me a vexed look. "How're you holding up?"

I raise my eyebrows. "You're asking me this? I seem to recall your petrified face when you were running away from Veran like she was Medusa."

A grin surfaces on his face. "She did look like Medusa. I didn't want to be taken for _granite_."

"Clever."

"Why thank you," Shad says, smile then faltering, replaced by a serious expression. "But I know what you're going through. Honestly, tell me, are you alright?"

"Perfectly," I respond in a blasé manner, nodding once. Shad tries speaking again, but decides against it, sighing in defeat.

The EPD arrive shortly, two cars rolling up to the curb and slowing to a stop when they near us. Four front doors swing open, and four people step out. Three unfamiliar cops, and one familiar middle-aged man.

"Chief," says Shad, both confusion and surprise in his tone, breaking into his stiff saluting position.

"Detective Sterling." Chief Auru of CTPD returns the salute, then turns his gaze to me. "Why, if it isn't Link Gaiden. I'm surprised you're here."

"Likewise," I say, addressing Shad's confusion for him.

"I actually came here to assess the conditions of Death Mountain Prison with the chief of EPD." He raises an eyebrow at Shad, sharing a look with him. Realization flashes across the detective's face.

"…Alright," I say after trying to read Shad's expression, but to no avail.

"Now," Auru says, striding toward the downed woman, "cuff her before she wakes up." He waves a beckoning hand without turning his head.

The three Eldinburg cops obey, hoisting Veran's unconscious body up and clamping handcuffs on her wrists.

Auru turns to me, stroking his gray goatee with a thumb and forefinger. "I suppose this was your doing?"

"Why would you think that?"

Sighing, he moves past the cop holding up Veran's still body. Gripping Veran's right arm and twisting it backwards, he rolls the black sleeve up, revealing the crescent moon tattoo on the inside of her wrist. The M.O.D. symbol. "Don't play dumb. Their gang lord killed your uncle. It was definitely you. Taking your anger out on Dragmire's subordinates will do nothing for you."

"Aside from emotional recompense and helping to free the public from the crime and violence," I retort adamantly.

He chuckles, a rather condescending smile on his wrinkled face. "I suppose we now have two individuals targeting Castle Town's gangs."

A clear reference to Hero, I conclude. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Auru folds his arms over his chest, forehead creased. "No. That's the police's job." An affirmative nod. "Leave it to us."

Behind him, Veran stirs. Following my gaze, Auru turns around just as her eyelids peek open. Her eyes lock with Auru's, and she breathes in and out calmly, saying nothing.

"Take her to the city jail," the chief orders the cops. "Then Death Mountain Prison if found guilty."

A tiny hint of a smile curls up the corners of Veran's lips. Barely noticeable, but I notice it.

Shad says, "But that's where—"

"Detective," Auru interrupts, eyeing him warningly, "do not start this again with me."

His mouth twists, but he nods nonetheless. "…Yes, sir."

Without another word, Auru makes his way toward the front police car, entering the passenger side and shutting the door firmly. Veran's eyes never left his back. The two cops who restrain her take her away to the second car, while the last cop stays behind.

"Good job, kid," he praises, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "I know who that woman is. She's one of the kingdom's evilest lawyers. She went around defending the most dangerous criminals and swaying the jury to find them innocent."

I listen with mild interest. Praise was never something I'd earned from carrying out my acts of vengeance and justice. It was never a hope of mine to receive, and it still isn't. I do this for me, not the approval of others.

"No matter what your city's chief says," the cop tells me, "keep being a hero. We need more people like you."

I let his words sink in as Shad and I watch him go.

* * *

Shad's home perfectly reflects his character. Simple, awkward, yet charming. We sit in his living room, each of us on a tan leather couch equally apart from a central coffee table. A television is mounted on the wall on one end of the room, displaying the evening news.

I take a polite sip from the cup of green tea I'd been offered and had reluctantly accepted. Nearly gagging at its taste, I set the cup down on the table, vowing to flush it down the toilet when I get up to "use the restroom."

"So, um," I begin weirdly, "why did you bring me here?"

Shad, who'd been rubbing the lenses of his spectacles clean with the hem of his shirt, looks up to meet my eyes. "Well, Link, in all honesty, I was worried about your mental state."

My eyebrows shoot up.

"Hear me out, now," he says, addressing my reaction. "I found you walking around the outskirts of the city at the opposite end from your school. You were looking down, even bumped into a few people, and looked to be lost in thought. It was five PM when I found you. Do you remember when you began your walk?"

I slowly nod. "…Like, ten."

"I found you seven hours later. You didn't even know what you were doing," he stresses.

I sigh, gaze falling, having trouble finding words.

"You've been so strong, Link." Shad nods consolingly. "No kid at your age should be experiencing what you did. And you've handled it so well. So it's okay, it's natural, for you to be acting this way."

Exhaling deeply, I shake my head. "...But that isn't me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not supposed to be like this," I explain, fighting the tears that well up in my eyes. "I'm supposed to be _strong_. I'm supposed to be the guy who is willing to sacrifice himself in order to save others and that's what I'm trying to do _and it's tearing me apart_—!"

"Link! Link," he interjects, "breathe."

Black spots blot out my vision, and my heart thuds rapidly in my chest. My teeth chatter vigorously, and I place my hands to my temples. I focus on my breathing. Strangled at first, but steadying. In, out. In, out. Breathe.

"…Link? Are you alright?"

Shad's echoing voice brings me back to reality, and my delirium gradually fades away. "…Y-yes," I choke out.

We sit in silence. Shad eyes me like I'm a ticking time bomb, and I avoid his gaze and focus on steady breaths.

"I forgot to tell you," he says after a long while. "Ghirahim was successfully relocated."

His tactic to take my mind off of things worked, because I curiously peek up at him. "Really?"

He nods. "I'll tell you, never had the chief ever disagreed so passionately with me." A pause. "Kind of weird, now that I think about it…. Nonetheless, it was a grueling battle, but he eventually conceded and had Ghirahim transferred to Death Mountain Prison here in Eldinburg."

"Where Veran's going," I muse, remembering her ominous smile at the prison's mentioning.

"Exactly."

Something doesn't add up here. But I am completely stumped as to what that is.

"However," he continues, "I think you should leave the chief alone for a time…."

I frown. "Why?"

"Well, he's… stubborn, as you know—"

"So am I, as you know."

"—and rather volatile lately," he states meekly. "He's been acting differently. It's strange."

"Why should I leave him alone if he's the one in charge of bringing in my enemies? What could he possibly do to me?"

"I—" Shad pauses, eyes falling on the TV screen. "Hold on."

"—and here is CTPD's Chief Auru from earlier today," says the anchor.

The video cuts to the chief, bent over a podium in front of the police station. He speaks loudly into the microphone, projecting his voice to the vast audience below:

"Months have passed, and we have witnessed no cooperation with this individual. Initially wanted for questioning due to allegations of resisting cooperation and interfering with the duty of authorities, this individual was given an opportunity to present himself as not a threat to the CTPD, and the general public, but ultimately failed to do so. Because of this, I am issuing an arrest warrant—" Whispers break out among the audience below the chief's podium. "—for the green-clad vigilante—" The whispering grows to chatter. "—known as Hero."

Shouts of protest and whoops of approval are emitted from the crowd.

Shad bites his lip. Sending me an awkward look, he points a finger at the television screen, sighing. "…That."

* * *

**A/N: I love fourth-wall breaks, hehe.**

**Some really obvious foreshadowing in this chapter, and some that's less obvious. I'd love to hear your theories :D**

**Ooh, I can't wait to get to the good ol' plot stuff! It gets gooood. I'm excited.**

**Thanks again for 300! Let's see how high we can get (without any drugs)!**

**Review review review review review pleeeeeaase! :D**

**~S(eeya)L(ater)43**


	18. Visionary

**A/N: And here I am several months later. School, sports, life. That's why.**

**I can't say it enough, though—I love you guys. All these reviews are very very much appreciated. Counting Stars is currently on page 5 of the most reviewed LOZ stories! Woo!**

**Thanks to chapter 17 reviewers: CowTits the Udderly Glorious, ItalicsAlex, TheChargingRhino, DemonKingGanondorf, ZJohnson, Infernal Flame Zero, MrSowmanJoe, nintendoer27, Marco, Guest 1, Immortal Fierce Dragon, Ladycarter2, Gerrard, PursuingPerfection, pikachung03, Tristan C'de Baca, quandani939, Guest 2, and ZELDALIFEZDAB! much luv**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**Link had a vision of Ganondorf failing to steal something from Hyrule Castle. Link then saw, through the gang lord's eyes, Ganondorf come into contact with Link on the night of Rusl's murder. Link awoke with a searing pain in his shoulder, where a cursed bokoblin had clawed him earlier. He went to Rauru, who revealed that he could use light magic to heal Link's wound. Rauru tried coaxing Link into revealing his suspicious life, but only succeeded in sending Link into a mental fit that nearly drove him mad. Shad found him walking aimlessly on the other side of Castle Town, and offered to give him a place to stay for the night. On their way, Veran jumped them, and Link knocked her out with a manhole cover. Chief Auru showed up at her arrest, ordering that if proven guilty she would be sent to Death Mountain Prison. That night, Shad informed Link that Ghirahim had been successfully relocated—coincidentally, also to Death Mountain Prison. Then Link watched through the TV as Chief Auru issued an arrest warrant for Hero. Not too good.**_

**Breath of the Wild is coming in less than a week. Whoa.**

**Proceed to read, comrade.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 18: Visionary**

* * *

The iron-barred door slid shut, separating the guard from the young man trapped inside. With a smirk, the guard strode off from the lad's new cell. "Enjoy your stay," he called derisively.

"You still haven't told me why I've been transferred! I retain the right to know!" the young man shot back, earning no answer. He let out a strangled yell and furiously slammed his hand against the bars.

He exhaled deeply, gritting his teeth, before noticing that he was not alone.

"Newcomer," a thickly-accented voice stated from behind him.

He slowly turned, gaze falling on a muscular, dark-skinned man with an orange outfit that matched his own. The young man eyed the other person coldly, lifting his chin in pride. "You will call me Ghirahim."

Instead of getting angry like the lad expected, his cellmate chuckled. "Fire, you has. I like." He paused, looking past Ghirahim for eavesdroppers, then lowering his voice to a whisper. "But boss man don't."

Ghirahim rolled his eyes. "The last place I was in, I took care of its boss on my first day." A frown. "I don't care if I offend yours."

"Boss man kill _fifty people_ in single day. That why he here," he explained, almost in a pleading tone.

"Who is he?" Ghirahim demanded, stepping closer. "Tell me his name."

His eyes widened; never had Ghirahim seen such a powerful-looking man be reduced to such a fearful coward. "No allow to say boss's name. He don't like."

"As if he can hear you," Ghirahim scoffed, tossing his white hair to the side.

Nodding adamantly, the man said with a shaky voice, "He know. He always know."

.-:—:—:-.

The next day found Ghirahim in the dining hall, a large room with long tables that seated his fellow inmates. His head was on a constant swivel, catching dirty looks from left and right. Still, he held his head high, watched his back, and looked around for anyone who could potentially be the boss of this joint. If he couldn't earn respect, he thought, he would have to take it.

A tattooed behemoth of a man bumped into him from behind, nearly toppling him over onto the floor. "Watch it, gup," the towering man grunted, ugly head contorted into a scowl.

Ghirahim tilted his head to either side until his neck cracked, inhaled deeply, and clenched his fists as he regarded the man. "Listen, y—"

A shaky hand gripped Ghirahim's shoulder before he could explode into his tirade. The grip loosened after it had hastily pulled him away from the man's imposing presence.

"What are you d—" Ghirahim stopped, recognizing the other guy as his cellmate. "Oh, it's you."

"No fight, newcomer. No fight."

"You think I can't handle myself?"

The man shook his head, wide-eyed. "You are guppy. They hate all guppy. You fight, _everyone_ team up on guppy."

Ghirahim frowned fitfully. He was at such a disadvantage ever since being transferred here to Death Mountain. "I'm no bitch," he spat stubbornly.

"What better? Pride or life?" the foreign man questioned. "_Life_ better. Follow orders, no smoke."

Ghirahim crossed his arms, icy gaze falling on his cellmate. "Tell me where the boss is."

He bit his lip pensively, then sighed. "There. Man who wear no peel."

With a frown, Ghirahim repeated, "Peel?"

A toothy grin spread out across his cellmate's lips. "Orange shirt, gup."

Ghirahim had already grown tired of that derogatory nickname, whatever it meant, and set off in the direction his cellmate had pointed.

He knew what "peel" meant when his eyes landed on a man wearing a white tank top, the only person in the dining hall without the orange shirt. Like an orange peel, he mused. The dark-skinned man sat with his back turned to everyone, his table completely vacant. Ghirahim strode boldly up to the table, audibly clearing his throat. The man lifted his head, pausing, then slowly turned around and stared at the newcomer coldly.

Ghirahim noted his strange appearance: a thin face, dark skin, and piercing eyes the strongest shade of yellow he'd ever seen. Red war paint—possibly blood—was painted around his eye sockets, down his nose and around his mouth. Tattoos in tribal shapes lined his forehead. A necklace of shark teeth hung from his neck, and two of the large teeth were attached to the top of his bald head in a devilish fashion.

_"Guppy,"_ was all the strange man said, and it took the last of Ghirahim's willpower to not lose his temper.

"You're the boss of this place…" Ghirahim eyed the name that was printed on the left thigh of his orange pants. "…Majora?"

If possible, the man's eyes grew even wider, but he showed no sign of anger aside from that. He hadn't even blinked.

After a long, drawn-out staredown between the two, Majora said smoothly_, "Yes, guppy, I happen to be the boss."_ He reached into his pocket, brandishing a shiny stone that dangled from a golden chain. _"And you have much to learn."_

* * *

Sunday, November 18th

I'd been scared to sleep.

My previous dream about Ganondorf had me wide awake, tossing and turning all last night, reluctant to subject myself to another subconscious vision of the like. I hadn't expected to dream about Ghirahim, of all people.

Death Mountain Prison. What a terrible place to be. I suppose those who are sentenced there deserve it, however. Like that creepy-looking boss guy. I wonder what kind of monster he once was—or still is.

This gets me wondering… Why do I get these crazy, random dreams?

After vowing to research this strange phenomenon, I sit up on the couch in Shad's living room. I check the time on a clock hanging on the opposite wall. Eight AM.

I reach for my FiPhone on the coffee table, noticing I have some notifications. Seeing the multiple texts and missed calls from Sheik, I curse under my breath. Why do I always leave him wondering about where I am, or if I'm safe? I'm not a very good friend to the guy.

Sighing, I read his messages. _Where u at_—_?_—_Link its 2am come back_—_Even dark is worried now link cmon_—_hello?_—_Dude answer your phone._

Oh, gods, Sheik. He's probably already filed a missing person's report, knowing him. I hastily type: _I'm okay sorry bro my phone was dead. Stayed the night at my detective's place. No homo tho._

"Morning, Link," Shad says with a yawn, already attired in his detective uniform.

"You work today?" I ask directly, not bothering to return the greeting.

He nods, making his way over to the kitchen. "Yep. Seven days a week, now."

"Whoa. No days off?"

"Well—" He shrugs. "No. Chief wants me to focus on finding Hero, while I want to focus on finding Dragmire." A pause. "The more I prioritize your case—which I find most important, believe me—the more hours I'm forced to put in."

"Wasn't Auru the one who appointed my case to you?"

"Y-yes, but.…" Shad's gaze falls to his working hands as he prepares himself a cup of coffee. "I hate to say it, but he thinks finding Hero is more important than Dragmire. And he made that very clear to me."

I frown. Auru never seemed to have liked me, and this just furthers my assumption. But why? What have I even done to him? "So he thinks Hero's more of a threat than Ganondorf."

A nod. "Apparently."

"Well I haven't killed anybo—" I stop, clamping my mouth shut, throat tightening. I inhale sharply, then exhale a slow breath. "…N-no one knows I've killed anyone," I murmur quietly, correcting my error.

Shad sips his coffee, gazing distantly. He breathes a sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. Just know that I'm on your side, even if the chief isn't. Honor before orders."

I nod. "Well... in that case... have you heard anything?"

Shad's lips twinge into a small, intrigued smile. "You're a dutiful one, Link. But no, unfortunately, I haven't."

My shoulders sag, disheartened.

"However," he adds quickly, raising a finger, "that could be good."

I frown. "How?"

"Have you noticed—aside from Veran yesterday, of course—that the M.O.D. have been practically invisible?"

I ponder that, remembering the numerous unsuccessful nights of thug-hunting. I haven't seen any of Dragmire's cronies, except for Veran and then those bokoblins that one night with Dark, since the encounter with Sakon. "…Yes," I tell him slowly.

"Maybe," he begins with an inspired smile, "they know their forces are thinning. They're hiding, so what you're doing is working. Soon enough, Dragmire will lose his power and we can overwhelm him and bring him to justice!"

The smile on my face gradually fades. _We_, he said. As in the police.

No. I'm going to kill Ganondorf for myself. Definitely.

But Shad doesn't need to know that.

"…R-right."

He notices my change in disposition and frowns. "What's the matter?"

He doesn't need to know, I remind myself. "I just… don't think that's the best method."

"You think we should do something different? Change up our tactics?"

I shake my head, pausing briefly, before setting my eyes firmly upon his own. "I have a plan. I think you should leave it to me."

He blinks several times. "…Leave it to you."

I nod.

"…So you don't want my help."

"Well I—"

"Do you realize what I've been going through here?" Shad interrupts, eyebrows narrowed. "You're wanted, yet I'm protecting your identity and helping you find a murderer. I'm working against direct orders. I could be discharged."

"I thought you were on my side," I retort.

"I didn't say I wasn't." He pauses, exhaling. "I know you want to be the hero, here. But look—there's bravery, and then there's stupidity."

"I'm known for both of those."

Shad nods. "Factual." His gaze softens slightly, running a hand through his curly hair. "I trust you, Link. What you're doing is working. But what _I'm_ doing is also working." A pause. "So here's my proposal."

"I'm all ears."

Shad exhales, seemingly reluctant to continue. "Your case is at stake here, but so is my job. I will still help you as Link, but—but not as Hero. Therefore..." he tells me, "do whatever is necessary, but for Din's sake, leave me out of it."

* * *

"If I pissed you off yesterday, you could've talked to me."

"You piss me off every day. But that's not why I left."

Sheik frowns. "Then why did you?"

I shrug. "I dunno. It was a nice day."

"It hit record-low temperatures."

I bite my lip, searching for another excuse. "…I went out to lunch."

"No one ever eats alone."

"How would you know I was alone?"

He sneers. "You're Link. You ain't slick with any girl."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, you're right, Sheik. You're the slickest. I don't have any sisters to go after like you."

"_Half_-sister, dammit!"

My immature chuckling is abruptly halted by a forceful hand gripping my shoulder from behind, promptly spinning me around to face its owner. My eyes widen when they fall upon the familiar golden irises of the tan-skinned, broad-shouldered douchebag that K.O.'d my friend Pipit. His cherry-red pompadour bobbles up and down as he heaves heavy, angry breaths as he stares down at me.

"You've got to be kidding," Sheik mutters.

The dude's lips mold into the all-too-familiar arrogant sneer that constantly made me want to drop-kick him. "Surprised to see me?" asks the one and only Groose Loft.

I merely return his scrutiny with a stale glare.

He lifts his chin. "I'm back," he says tauntingly.

Sheik snorts. "I never noticed you were gone."

"I was suspended," Groose spits indignantly, smirk fallen, "after that fight with your puny friend Pippy."

"Seems more like you were just a forgotten character," I say with a shrug. "And now you've been brought back to cover another little plot hole."

Groose knits his eyebrows. "…What?—shut up, I don't even care. Listen, you dope," he orders, pointing a meaty finger at my face. "I've had enough of you."

I swat his hand away, already bored by his stupidity. "I've literally forgotten all about you."

"Shut it, nerd!"

"You should work on your name-calling skills."

"You should work on your shutting-the-hell-up skills!"

"Good one."

Groose snarls, baring his teeth oh so menacingly. Really, I'm scared. Just terrified. Wah. "You've made me look horrible in front of Zelda," Groose grumbles to me.

"I think your hair did that for you," Sheik retorts.

It takes all his willpower for Groose to ignore Sheik. He clenches his fists, tightly setting his jaw. "I'm tired of you, Gaiden. Zelda and I are going to be together."

"Watch it," Sheik asserts warningly. "That's my half-sister you're talking about."

Groose fixes him with a disgusted look. "The hell? Weren't you the one walkin' around sayin' she's hot?"

I struggle to contain my laughter at that. Sheik, fuming, closes his eyes and grits his teeth.

"Incest is illegal, you kn—"

"Shut up, you damn oaf!" Sheik roars, lunging for the redhead. I calmly stick my arm out and keep my friend from fighting the much larger guy, since we all know how that would end up. He thrashes against my arm determinedly, but my strength is far superior.

"What do you want, Groose?" I say through an annoyed sigh once I get Sheik in check.

"What I want," he snaps, glaring daggers at me, "is you to back off Zelda."

I blink. "Okay."

"Now you listen to m—Wait." His forehead creases in a frown. "_Okay_?"

I nod nonchalantly. "Okay," I repeat, just as unenthused.

"So… you… I… she…" he stutters, knitting his eyebrows. "You're… done with her?"

"I was never _with_ her. But sure, Groose," I respond. "Go right ahead."

Groose's expression remains thoroughly confused for a moment longer, as if he were asked to find the sum of two plus two. He blinks twice, then his lips bust out in a toothy grin. Without another word, he turns on his heel and thunders down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

Sheik turns to me as a few raindrops begin to fall upon us. "You're just letting him loose?"

I smirk, watching my footsteps. "Yes. I'm letting Groose loose."

"Why? So you're legitimately one hundred percent done with Zelda?"

I shrug meekly. "Regardless if I am or not, Groose doesn't have a chance."

"Still," he says, "he's gonna pester her for months now."

"If it gets him to stop hating on me and my friends, I'm okay with that," I tell him. "After all, I'm not around her anymore, so that doesn't affect me."

Sheik's eyebrows raise. "Whoa."

I send him a questioning glance.

He gazes at me with concern in his eyes. "I didn't expect that out of you."

"And why not?"

"Not gonna lie, it sounded kind of selfish."

Sighing, my eyes fall back down the sidewalk, observing the assortment of dark splatters of raindrops. "Sometimes it isn't the worst thing to be focused on yourself, you know."

Sheik looks away quietly, the distant sound of thunder echoing my tumultuous thoughts. "I guess you're right."

* * *

"I've missed you, buddy."

"We saw each other like two days ago."

"That's fourteen days in dog years."

"Are you a dog?"

"So I've been told."

I roll my eyes as Dark gives me his signature oblivious grin. "What do you want, Dark?"

He leans against the doorframe, peering into our room as I sit on the couch. "I want you to help me go find Miranda."

I eye him peculiarly. "…Midna."

He gives an affirmative nod, still grinning. "Yep."

"You realize that she's the one who hates my guts, right?"

"Yep."

"And that she's the one who's in love with Sheik, right?"

"Yep."

I blink. "…Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Nope," he says.

I huff, rising to my feet. "Look. It's a bad idea, Dark, whatever it is you're planning with her."

Dark frowns. "Why?"

"…Because of the reasons I just explained to you," I drawl out slowly, as if I were speaking to a third-grader. Well, third-grader might be a bit too generous.

"Oh," he replies simply, gaze falling. Meeting my eyes again, he shrugs, saying, "Oh well," and turns to head out the door.

"What do you mean, _'oh well'_?" I demand, hurrying after him.

Dark doesn't bother turning his head, speed-walking down to the stairwell. "You're not gonna help me find Marina because you don't like her, so I'll just go myself."

Frowning, I hasten my footsteps and throw my arms outward, frustrated. "That's not why—Dark, have you even been listening?"

Without stopping, he shakes his head, then raises his fist in the air proudly. "Love is deafening, Link!"

"You're not in love, dumbass!" I protest, finally catching up to him. I grab his shoulder to slow him down, turning him so I can look him in the eye. "For Din's sake, Dark, you don't even know her name!"

"I _do_ know her name!"

"Then say it!" I shout, heedless to the attention we must be bringing to ourselves in a public hallway.

Dark scowls at me as he lifts his chin and promptly speaks in a confident, indisputable tone: "_Ashley_."

I blink—twice, three times—before shaking my head and telling him flatly, "…You're on your own, dude," and leaving him there to wallow in his oblivious stupidity.

* * *

The cool night air nips bitterly at my cheek, the wind whistling through the alleys of the city. A discarded chip bag tumbles down along the pavement; a dog barks in the distance. As my footsteps click quietly on the vacant sidewalk, I turn my head side to side, observing my surroundings.

It's quiet. The street is empty.

An eerie gust of northward wind ruffles my hair and chills my neck, one of the few places on my body left exposed by my green attire. I stop abruptly along the sidewalk; my ears perk up.

A wild snort. A high-pitched whine.

I'd recognize those noises anywhere. Although, I'd really prefer it not to be what I think it is—I'm not in the mood for another fight.

But just in case, I feverishly search around for a weapon, reprimanding myself for once again forgetting to have one handy. After scanning the area twice over, however, I unfortunately have found nothing to defend myself with.

Gods, I'd even settle for using that selfie stick right now.

I suppose I will have to rely on my leather-gloved fists and my summonable energy—that is, if it works this time. The last time I tried to do so, all energy within my Triforce piece seemed to have vanished; I haven't any idea as to why that occurred. Let's just hope for the best this time.

The odd squealing noise catches my attention once more, seeming to have come from an alley half a block down. My jaw tightens; I step forward. Might as well bring the fight to them while I still have the element of surprise.

When I clench my fist, I feel the familiarity of energy coursing through my veins from deep within my body. It's there. I exhale a breath of relief, feeling slightly safer.

I take gritty steps forward, unsure of exactly what I'm about to face. Feeling oddly calm in spite of the daunting unknown, I find myself arriving at the alley.

I rush forward, the electricity spilling about between my fingertips, eyes set on my target I am determined to kill—

"Yo, back up!" a voice shrieks frantically.

I freeze in place, digging my heels into the pavement and forcing myself to stop. The energy I had at the ready gradually retreats back into its nest—nest?—within my body. I blink my eyes to focus on the figure before me in the dark alley.

"No… frickin'… way." A scoff.

My eyes widen behind my black mask as I recognize who I almost just accidentally murdered. Midna.

Another person I hadn't noticed peeks his head out from behind her, red eyes boring into mine.

"L—Hero?" he blurts.

"Dark?" I respond impulsively without thinking.

Midna, meanwhile, whips her head back and forth between the two of us, a look of bewilderment on her face. She sets her eyes on Dark. "…You know him?"

He catches my eye, and I know exactly what he's thinking. Way to go, dumbass. "Uh," he scratches his head, "I—"

"He saved my life," I cut in, drawing both sets of red eyes. "I, uh, I was here on this road, fighting bokoblins—"

"Fighting _what_?" Midna interrupts.

"Book club kids," Dark says quickly. He eyes me again, making me feel even stupider. Are you kidding me, Link? his look says.

"…Yes. Book club kids."

"So you're telling me," she begins, eyebrows furrowed, "you call yourself Hero but you spend your time bullying little nerds?"

"No, that's not what I—"

"It's no wonder you're a criminal."

"They took his lunch money and gave him wedgies," Dark chimes.

"You're not helping!" I shout at him.

Right then, a deep bellowing cry erupts from behind the three of us. I whirl around, only to be met with a thundering smack to the chest.

I feel myself flying backward through the alley, landing painfully on my back. Immediately, a strange sensation presents itself from within my body. A wave of exhaustion washes over me as I feel my energy start to fade, draining out of me like water. Staggering to my feet, I set my eyes on our attacker, who has shifted his focus to Dark.

Dark throws a right hook straight into the wooden shield of the largest bokoblin I've ever seen. He wails in pain as the skin splits on his knuckles. Stepping backward, eyes wide, Midna watches with horror as the creature swings his thick blade downward. Dark narrowly escapes by diving to the right.

I rush forward, shoving past Midna and Dark, summoning the holy energy with all my might. I raise my arm to send a bolt of electrify straight into the monster's skull—but nothing comes out.

So here I am, wearing a ridiculous costume, standing in the middle of an alley with my arm harmlessly pointed at a monster, feeling like a schizophrenic cosplayer on crack. Or just a cosplayer in general.

The bokoblin flicks me away effortlessly with his shield. It snorts to itself as I'm knocked to the ground once again, seemingly laughing at my pathetic attempt to kill it.

"Are you an idiot?!" Dark yells.

"It's not working!" I shoot back as I get back up.

"What, your _fireball_? You didn't _scream_ loud enough, Goku!"

"I'm talking about my energy!" I run up beside him as he tries to disarm the creature. "I can't shoot it anymore!" I complain frantically.

"Figure it out later!"

Dark manages to successfully trip the creature by sweep kicking its stubby legs. The bokoblin falls face-first to the ground, loosening its grip on its blade.

"Quick—grab the sword!" I command as I repeatedly kick the bokoblin in the head.

He obeys, hurrying over to the weapon and trying to pry it from the monster's grip. "It's too heavy!"

"Start working out!" I yell.

A loud, feminine battle cry erupts over the commotion.

Dark and I turn our heads to see Midna holding a pocket knife over her head, rushing up to the monster and plunging the small blade into its thick skull. The monster whines, flailing its limbs about, before it goes limp and disappears into a plume of purple smoke.

The small pocket knife falls and rattles on the ground, settling where the monster's head had been.

Midna turns to us, eyes wild. "What was that?!"

We share a brief look before Dark quietly answers: "A bokoblin."

"That was no book club kid!"

"No—" Dark shakes his head. "_Bo-kob-lin_."

"I don't even…" She puts her hands to the sides of her head. "What the hell is a bokoblin?!"

I look at her, irked. "What the hell do you think it is?" I ask. "It's a frickin' monster."

"I'm not stupid!" she argues. "Tell the truth!"

Rolling my eyes, I fix her with a fed-up look. "It _is_ the truth. Don't be immature. When are you gonna grow up and realize that monsters are real?"

She squints. "Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?"

I turn to Dark, exasperated. "Why couldn't I use that energy back there?"

Dark shrugs, sighing. "I dunno, man. Did you get hurt?"

"Yeah, he smacked me with his shield—Wait." I raise a finger. "…Maybe it doesn't work when I get hurt."

"That's what I was getting at."

I raise my eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

He tilts his head curiously.

"That was the most intelligent train of thought you've ever had."

He grins a toothy grin. "I'm working on my smartness."

"…I take it back."

"Hey! Dumbasses!" Midna interjects, coming between the two of us. "You still didn't explain to me how you know each other. I'm really suspicious!"

"I was trying to tell you," I grumble, turning away from her and walking toward the alley's exit, "but you started calling me a criminal and shit. Oh, and a monster tried to murder us. No big deal there."

"Shut up and tell me," she demands, following me out the alley with Dark in tow.

I roll my eyes. "I was fighting bokoblins—"

"Much smaller bokoblins," Dark says. "Nothing like this one. This one was, like, on 'roids."

I glare at him. "Can I finish?"

Dark frowns.

"Anyway. They were kicking my ass. Dark came in and helped out. That's it." I nod affirmatively, and Dark mimicks the action. And thus concludes my slightly-fabricated tale.

"…So you aided a criminal," Midna says, turning to Dark.

"Hero is not a criminal!" he refutes adamantly. "He's wanted when all he's done is help the police do their jobs!"

"Hm." Midna pauses, eyes dropping. "…I don't care about this idiot," she tells Dark, gesturing offhandedly toward me, "but… make sure you don't get yourself in trouble."

"Touching," I grunt. "What were you two even doing out here in the middle of the night?" I ask them, folding my arms across my chest.

"She likes exploring the city at night," Dark answers, "and I went with her to know what it's like."

I scoff. "You know what it's like, Dark."

Dark gives an aloof shrug.

Turning to Midna, I ask, "So you go out at night a lot, but this is the first time you've seen a monster?"

"…Well, yeah," she replies quietly after hesitating.

_Odd_, I muse, leaving the conversation open to the air. I guess Ganondorf's monsters are geared to only target me.

"Think the monsters are getting tougher?" Dark asks me following a brief moment of silence.

"Apparently," I say. "Or there are new breeds entirely."

"Gods. We gotta get tougher too."

"Or," Midna pipes, coming between us, "you get more recruits." Her eyebrows raise implicitly.

We turn to her, foreheads creased. "We're a criminal and a goth who fight mythical creatures. Who would possibly want to join us?" I ask dubiously.

Dark raises a finger. "I could think of a few. Metallica fans."

"Rebellious teens who spend their time crying on Tumblr," I add.

"Skyrim players."

"Crazy old men who say they've got nothing to lose."

"Stoners who think it's all a trip."

I chuckle, turning back to Midna. "A true dream team we've got, huh?"

She frowns. "I fit most of those categories, but I was talking about me."

"_You_?!" Dark and I both exclaim.

"Yes."

Dark scoffs. "Nope. Can't. Not happening."

"Agreed." I shake my head no.

"Well why not?" she demands stubbornly.

"Well," I begin, "for starters... why?"

Midna blinks.

I gesture to Dark. "You barely know this dude, and I guarantee that you would hate whoever is under this mask," I say, jamming my thumb to my chest.

"I hate a lot of people," admits Midna with a shrug, "but how could you possibly assume that?"

My mind drifts back to the day Midna exploded on me for ending things with Zelda. _You're a coward!_ she'd yelled in my face. Not my fondest memory. "Trust me," I tell her, "I just know."

"Whatever, freak." She puts a hand on her hip and sighs, looking away. "Just keep me in mind, 'kay?"

"No promises."

Midna turns to leave us.

"Whoa, hey—" Dark interrupts, stopping her. "—where ya going?"

"Home?" she replies with a raise of an eyebrow.

"But I can't let you—"

"_Do not_ come with me," she orders. "I'll be fine, and I want to be alone."

Dark bites his lip before reluctantly stepping aside. "…Okay."

She leaves, walking swiftly under the cold light of the moon.

* * *

"That was cute."

"Shut up, Link."

"You were a true gentleman, right up 'til the end, there." I grin at Dark teasingly. "Props for trying, my dude."

He glares his scarlet eyes at me. "I don't wanna hear it."

We walk along the distressed sidewalk curiously, looking into the dark windows and gated doors of the closed-up shops. I notice a familiar licensing building across the street, but think nothing of it and keep walking. Dark's gaze lingers on the building as well, and he stops abruptly. I proceed for a short distance before I look back and realize he's behind me. "Dark," I say, "what's up?"

"Look," he answers. I follow his gaze to the building.

"Yeah, I saw it. Looks familiar, but I dunno."

"It's where I got my ID," he tells me.

Suddenly I remember the significance of this store; an illuminated lamp inside flickers off. The door opens, and out comes a large person wearing a trenchcoat and a fedora. He locks the doors behind him, wipes his crooked nose, and walks southward with his head pointed down.

"…Is that him?" I ask quietly.

"It's gotta be," Dark responds.

We tail the broad-shouldered man as he heads toward the south side of Castle Town—fitting for a gang member.

"I've never been to this part of town," I whisper to Dark as we hide behind the cover of an alley.

"I have one time," Dark tells me, keeping his eyes on our target. "I got mugged by a homeless dude. He stole my Pop-Tart."

"Our thoughts and prayers are with you."

"Thanks."

Ten more minutes of stealthy walking leads us to a gated neighborhood beside a trailer park—completely contrasting their inhabitants' levels of income.

Dark and I duck behind a convenience store's alleyway as the man looks behind him for followers. We watch as he turns back around and punches in a six-digit code into a keypad. The gate opens, the man walks in, and it closes.

We walk out into the open, stopping a few yards before the gate. We watch, unsure of our next move, as the man ascends the paved-hilled-driveway toward an imposing mansion at the top. Nice houses line the driveway on both sides, big in their own right, but half the size of the mansion.

"What do we do?" I ask.

Dark shrugs. "Break in, knock him out, leave him for the cops."

"Isn't that breaking and entering?"

Dark scoffs. "You're a criminal. Remember?"

"Oh. Yeah."

By now, the man had disappeared, having already entered his less-than-humble abode. The rest of the neighborhood seems to be fast asleep, each window dim.

Dark steps toward the eight-foot-tall gate, gripping two bars and hoisting himself up and over the thin steel spires. I follow suit, landing swiftly inside the privileged neighborhood.

These people live rather decently in the bad part of the city. Anyone with this much money in this area probably gets their money illegally.

Dark and I quickly and quietly proceed to the mansion.

The breeze ruffles my hair and flops my green cap in its wake. The night is eerily quiet. A dog barks, startling me, but it had come from behind a home's fence.

At the hill's crest, we arrive at the man's home. It stands four-stories tall, as wide as a convenience store. Three large garage doors grace the front wall beside a short staircase that leads to the mansion's entrance, with glass windows above the white double doors that show off an expensive chandelier inside.

Dark and I creep along the perfectly-manicured grass toward the bushes. At the foliage, we crouch beneath another window with its blinds drawn back. I poke my head up, and Dark does the same.

Inside, polishing his chrome pistol with a white rag, stands Ganondorf's right-hand-man: Agahnim. Dark catches my eye and offers me a motivational grin; I ignore him and return my mirthless gaze to my target.

With Agahnim gone, the M.O.D. become significantly weaker. That shall make killing Ganondorf Dragmire a possible task.

I clench my fist, ready to take on this challenge.

* * *

**A/N: I actually finished! Next update… honestly, I'm not sure. I've been so busy, so I can't promise anything. God I suck.**

**But you guys don't! Y'all are my home-dogs. Leave a review, please—I'd really appreciate it :D**

**~SL43**


	19. Intruder

**A/N: Ok. Long author's note. If you don't care, skip it. Now—I'm fed up with my awful update consistency. I'm genuinely sorry. At this rate I'm updating two or three times a year. That's inexcusable. Ugh. The only explanation I can give you is that I'm not living on an average schedule, by any means. Lame excuse. I know. But there's been so much I've gone through over the past couple years of writing this story: from becoming a varsity athlete, to death threats, to my ADHD, to family crises, etc. I won't bother with any details. I'm not looking for attention, I just think my readers deserve to know why.**

**So. Now that that's over. Thanks to chapter 18 reviewers: ZJohnson, Shadelz5665, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, FierceDeityLinkMask, Marco, ItalicsAlex, DemonKingGanondorf, Whis, ur fan, ZELDALIFEZDAB, minutmaidman, Amelia F, Plop Prince, J, A read here and there, ZeldaRules, Gerrard, Iheart2manyfandoms, quandani939, Pouda-P, JaredWhy, Herooftheprimes, Gtooms, Kira of Darkness, and TheChargingRhino!**

_**Last time in Hyrule…**_

_**Link envisioned Ghirahim after he was transferred to Death Mountain Prison. Ghirahim met the all-feared boss of the inmates, Majora, who had a mystical pendant in his possession. Link awoke at Shad's, then returned home and encountered Groose, who had returned from a suspension. The oaf was surprised to learn that Link didn't care about his infatuation with Zelda anymore, and he bounded off to pursue his love. That night, Link, dressed as Hero, ran into Dark and Midna. The girl figured out that the two boys were in cahoots, before a giant bokoblin attacked them. Link learned that he couldn't harness the energy from his Triforce after suffering an injury. Midna ended up finishing off the beast, then offered to join Dark and Hero in the future. They declined. Then, spotting Agahnim on the street, they tailed him to his mansion and plotted an elaborate infiltration.**_

**Side note—How good is Breath of the Wild? Issa masterpiece, in my opinion. I haven't played it too much, but I love it.**

**In fact, I've decided that my next project will be a post-BotW story. (Don't worry, I won't even begin to think about starting it until this one is finished.) I just think that the ending of it was disappointing—like all Zelda games, to be honest—and I want to expand on it through my own imagination. I'm aware that the Champions' Ballad DLC will be an epilogue, so I'll work around that as well. It sounds fun.**

**Read along, and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**COUNTING STARS**

**Chapter 19: Intruder**

* * *

Sunday, November 18th

The floorboards creak ever so quietly beneath the soft weight of my footsteps as I creep through the dusty attic. It's dark, but the full moon shines through one of the windows, washing the room in an eerie blue light. I still must strain my eyes to see.

I turn my head, directing my fascinated gaze toward Dark as he silently and comfortably leads the way. He looks backward; my breath hitches as I note his irises beginning to burn a bright red. This, the darkness, is his natural habitat. He's at home here.

I squint my eyes until nearly shut just to get a blurry image of my surroundings. Meanwhile, he sees better here than during the day. He could be leading me off a bridge and I'd still follow him. Hell if I'd know where I'm going.

I faintly see him raise a hand, indicating for me to stop. I oblige, albeit a bit too late, and bump into him. He glares at me with his fiery eyes and I don't think I've ever been intimidated by him before now. He looks terrifying like this.

Apparently he'd found the way down into the mansion. Lifting the hatch slightly, he peers down at the bright hallway below. Red carpet laced with gold lining covers the wooden floors; perhaps that will quiet our landing just a bit.

For Dark, staying quiet won't be an issue. He proves this by yanking the hatch all the way open and leaping down with the grace of a cat. He hadn't made a sound.

I gape at him, despite already knowing about his otherworldly abilities. Dark, the red in his eyes gradually fading now that he's exposed to the light, beckons for me to come down with a wave of his hand. Biting my lip, I hesitate, knowing that my landing won't be all that stealthy. He beckons me again, and I drop down.

Much to my surprise, Dark reaches his arms out and catches me, stifling my fall and successfully making no noise. He places me on my feet, quite like he would a child. I don't particularly take a liking to the new feeling of dependence this situation has given me.

The hallway we've landed on, being the third floor, leads to rooms on both ends—one with a light on, the other without. Dark starts to go toward the dimmer room; it's natural instinct for him. I stop him, though, putting my arm out. When he turns to me with a quizzical raise of an eyebrow, I point to the other room that clearly contains a staircase leading to the lower levels of the mansion. After all, as we've observed before intruding, our target is most likely located on the first floor—if he stays there, that is.

Dark nods in understanding and gestures for me to lead the way. Perhaps he feels that I am more fit to do so in the light.

After descending the marble spiral staircase to the second floor, we set foot in what appears to be a training room. Decorative suits of Hylian armor line each wall, each of their right metal fists gripping a spear. Practice dummies stand near the middle of the room, beaten and sliced from the toil of training sessions. Nunchucks, scythes, and other strange-looking weaponry lie scattered about.

I slowly move past the dummies toward the far door, ignoring the one to the right, for what I could see through its open entryway was just a small bed. A guest bedroom, possibly. Not that anybody would want to visit Agahnim, however.

About halfway through the dojo I notice Dark has stopped to pick up a scythe. When his eyes meet my disapproving gaze, he holds his hands up and mouths,_ 'What?_'

He knows what. I hadn't come here to kill. Farore knows what my mind would be subjected to if I killed another man.

Dark, with the attitude of a child who knows he was wrong, huffs to himself as he swaps the scythe for a pair of nunchucks. He grabs another pair and tosses them to me. I take them and nod at him.

The next room was another corridor, leading three more ways. To the right: a staircase I assume leads to the first floor living room. Straight forward: a closed door, the light off. Naturally, Dark is drawn to this room, but I hold up a patient hand to halt him. To the left: a room with its door opened, allowing the candlelight from within to spill out to our feet. From what I see, it looks like the master bedroom. It has been around twenty minutes since we've arrived; it is possible that Agahnim has already retired to go to sleep.

Eyes locked on the opened door, I bump Dark on the chest with my hand and point. Seeming to understand my thought process, he nods.

I take slow, anticipating steps forward, Dark trailing. I find myself wishing that Agahnim is sound asleep in his bed right now. A quick smack to the temple, and he'd remain asleep for long enough to put him in prison, where he belongs. Placing my hand on the wood of the doorway, I barely peek my eyes out from the security of the wall, peering into the candlelit room.

A darkened television makes up most of the right wall. The orange light of the candle flickers from its golden container atop a nightstand in the right corner, neighbored by a large crimson vase. The vacant bed rests firmly at the back wall. A quick glance to the left leaves me certain that the master bedroom is empty.

This disappoints me, but a scattered set of papers resting atop the nightstand catches my attention. I enter the room, Dark following curiously, and stop at the wooden nightstand.

I peer down upon it, then notice that the scatter of papers are maps of an elaborate, grand structure. In the top-right corner of the aerial-view map are two words written in red ink: Hyrule Castle.

I frown uneasily. Whatever the M.O.D. has planned for the castle, it seems like a big deal. Dark leans over my shoulder to observe as well.

Nunchucks dangling at my hip, I sift through the papers until a different map catches my eye. This one happens to only be a large circle, aside from something near the back: a rectangular shape is circled in red ink. Below the circle is a little footnote somebody scribbled on in red pen, reading: _Wisdom. Don't let anybody touch it but Master Dragmire!_

Ganondorf aims to take the final piece of the Triforce—Wisdom. I take the maps and stuff them into my pocket, determined to go and intercept it before he can obtain it. And then, if two pieces are in my possession, Courage and Wisdom, I will have so much godly power that I will end Ganondorf's life with ease!

The thought leaves my mouth watering. With a wild sense of determination, I grin savagely.

_Click._

Dark and I freeze, hearts dropping in fear. We slowly turn our heads, and in the doorway stands the cloaked, wrinkly figure of Agahnim. With his chrome pistol aimed steadily at my chest, he growls, "You might want to put those back."

I don't hurry to make any moves, knowing full well that nobody in the gang has the guts to kill me without Ganondorf's consent. It's commonly assumed that the Triforce goes to the killer in the event that a bearer is killed. Nobody wants to walk up to boss-man wielding the sacred power that he's been targeting his whole life.

Aware of this, I reply sternly, "You might want to put that down."

"Consider this your warning."

"Likewise."

Dark's eyes flutter uneasily between the two of us. Neither I nor Agahnim move, and the tension in the air grows rapidly by the second.

"I know what you're thinking," he tells me darkly. "You think that just because I won't kill you, you can get away with being a brave, defiant little brat. Don't think I can't shoot you aiming to keep you alive."

I suppose I haven't thought of that.

"Checkmate," he says with a smug grin.

But he doesn't shoot. This surprises me; most of Agahnim's bravado doesn't go without action. Maybe he doesn't trust his shot enough and he fears hitting a vital.

"The _maps,_ Hero."

I steal a glance at Dark, who flicks his eyes behind me, then back. He's trying to tell me there is something useful there. Knowing our nunchucks will do little against a pistol, I hastily devise a plan, trusting Dark's wordless advice.

"Fine."

I intentionally drop the maps behind me, as if it were an accident, then turn around to pick them up. When I reach down, my eyes fall upon a big crimson vase sitting on the floor beside the nightstand.

"What do the maps show?" asks Dark as I prepare for action. I envision Agahnim turning his head toward my doppelganger to answer him, then place my hands on either side of the vase.

"You don't get to know—"

_CRASH._

Agahnim stumbles back, blinking and dazed, as shards of the vase fall to the floor. Dark finishes the job with a quick blow to the head with his nunchucks. The old man falls hard on his back, motionless.

"Good thinking," I commend my doppelganger.

He nods his reply.

"I'll call Shad to bring the police so they can put this guy behind bars. Then we can get out of here."

"Okay."

When Shad picks up, I relay the story of our infiltration and successive takedown of the gang member with much enthusiasm as my detective silently listens. "So," I say after finishing the details, an excited grin on my face, "I need you and some cops to come get him. Isn't this great? Now we only need to get Zant, and then I can—"

"Link," came Shad's stern interjection, keeping his voice low. "You did well taking Agahnim down. But I just ran his file— we don't have a warrant for his arrest."

I pause, blinking back confusion. "…What does that mean?"

"It means we can't arrest him only on suspicion of gang activity."

"But—but he's admitted it to me, and to my friends—"

"As far as CTPD knows, however, he's a licensor who lives a quiet life." He sighs. "I'm sorry.… Hold on a moment."

I listen as rumbling sounds are sent through the phone, and can make out some of Shad's muffled voice as he converses with who I assume are his coworkers. "What's going… Break-in? …sure this is… know where… Guardian Acres... okay." This time, Shad's voice comes in much more clearly: "Link, get out of there. Now."

"Why, what's wrong?" I ask, apprehension growing in my chest.

"The police are aware of a break-in in Agahnim's neighborhood and are going to the scene to investigate," he says urgently. "Hurry, and please, if you're smart, just leave Agahnim there." He hangs up, and I gulp.

"Take the maps, quick," I tell Dark. "I have another call to make."

* * *

The mini van pulled up much quicker than we expected. When I saw who was in the driver seat, however, the speed at which they must have been traveling makes much more sense.

"Hurry the hell up!" roars Volga from inside the van, poking his head out the window.

Our unlikely ally, Vaati, had gotten out of the car to help Dark and I drag Agahnim's unconscious body toward the vehicle. "You owe us for this," he says, stopping to bind the prisoner in tight ropes once we arrive.

"Get in!" an unfamiliar voice screeches from inside the van. "I can hear the sirens!" The door slides open, and the three of us tumble inside, Vaati having stuffed Agahnim in the very back. Volga floors the pedal, and we take off out of the neighborhood.

I haven't noticed, but the unfamiliar voice we'd heard belongs to the person sitting beside me. I finally look over, then study his peculiar appearance. His skin appears to be maroon, and he wears black ripped jeans and a black sweatshirt, the hood pulled up so far that it hides his entire face except his mouth. "Name's Wizzro," he offers upon noticing me scrutinizing him for a brief moment. I nod my greetings, still intrigued by his mystique. "Cia will be very pleased that you're finally bringing her an M.O.D. member for once, instead of just turning him in. Hah!"

"Only because the CTPD can't legally arrest him," I counter.

"Sure, sure," he agrees with a sharp-toothed grin. "But I believe there's another reason."

"Oh?"

"Don't act all innocent," says Wizzro bemusedly. "Everyone hates him. You don't want justice for that geezer! He deserves to suffer."

The memory of Agahnim beating my face into a pulp faintly comes to mind. I shrug at Wizzro. "Point taken."

"Hah! I got the pure-hearted Hero to agree to injustice!" he mocks.

"You don't seem to know my main goal in becoming Hero."

"What's that?"

"Killing someone," I state flatly.

Wizzro turns to stare at me with his shrouded eyes, still grinning. "Dragmire. That's right." As if teasing me, he cackles quietly.

"Police," warns Vaati from the passenger seat. Volga takes notice and forces the van to go even faster.

I peer out the tinted window as we whizz by two cop cars. One continues toward the neighborhood we just fled, while the other turns around and pursues us.

"We're being followed," says Wizzro, oddly calm.

Volga growls in frustration, then lifts one hand off the wheel as he throws on a ski mask. "Take the wheel," he orders Vaati, who complies.

From behind me, Dark asks, "What're you doing?" He looks forward at Volga with shocked disapproval.

Ignoring him, Volga grabs a pistol with his right hand and leans out the window, firing backward at the police car.

"No! No!" I yelp, instincts kicking in as I lunge forward to grab Volga's arm. My chest smashes into the driver's seat as Volga repeatedly slams me, trying to free himself from our struggle for the weapon.

"Let go!" he roars, managing to fire off one more bullet before throwing me back into my own seat.

As Volga reclaims control of the getaway van, I look back at the police car with gut-sinking apprehension. The bullet sinks into the rubber of the front-left tire, and I watch as it pops and sends the vehicle rolling.

Time seems to freeze as I lock eyes with the driver. I see his fear.

Reality kicks back in and the car lies upside-down beside a building, quickly disappearing as we speed away. My heart wrenches, and silence settles in the van.

"What was _that,_ Hero?" demands Volga angrily.

With a level voice, I say, "I didn't want you to kill him."

"I aimed for the tires the whole time. Their cars are bulletproof, anyway."

I gulp, knowing my misjudgment. It made me appear weak. "…You're right," I say, not wishing to make him any angrier.

"Idiot," is all he says.

* * *

Wednesday, November 21st

The exhaustion I can deal with.

The piercing, dismantling pang of emptiness I keep feeling, on the other hand, is a tad more difficult to handle. Empty. That's a good description of it.

It's not that I lack a purpose anymore—avenging Uncle Rusl is well enough to keep me focused on my quest to kill Ganondorf. It's just that, afterwards, when my purpose is fulfilled, what's next? What will I have left?

Neglected friendships. Scarring experiences. Tarnished relationships. Is that what I'm coming home to?

I ponder these thoughts as I sit alone in Castle Park, careful not to get carried away and nearly drive myself mad again. My eyes flick up to the elegant harp that hangs from the tallest tree, only leading my mind to return to thinking of my failures with Zelda.

Footsteps crunching on autumn-fallen leaves alert my attention to behind me. I turn to see Pipit, bundled in a warm coat and thick scarf, heading toward me. "Hey," he says, not as chipper as usual.

"Hey." I pull my green baseball cap tighter onto my head as winter's early chill breezes by.

"You, uh… you doing alright?" he asks hesitantly, taking a seat beside me on the bench. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

I shrug, unwilling to speak.

"We're kinda worried about you, dude," he admits, offering a small, awkward smile. "Um… Sheik especially."

"Why Sheik?"

"I dunno, probably a best friend kinda thing."

I frown. Am I really Sheik's best friend? Even when I've treated him awfully and constantly worried him? My heart hurts for him. Immediately I'm washed over with waves of regret as I realize what I've put my friends through over the past three weeks. I sigh, defeated, putting my hands to my face.

"You mind if we talk?" questions Pipit.

"I don't."

"So, um, I met a girl."

I roll my eyes. "Not this again."

Raising a hand, he shakes his head and says, "No, not like that, Link. It's different this time. Hear me out."

Despite my doubts, I nod and gesture for him to continue.

"So I met a girl last night. We talked for a long time. And… she was unique. She made me happy." He pauses, frowning and averting his gaze. "Didn't make just one certain anatomical part of me happy. No, it was my whole body this time. And my soul. I was actually… happy."

"Good," I say with a half-smile, somewhat amused by his storytelling.

"Her name was Orielle. I actually remembered her name, Link," he tells me with a grin. "I never remember girls' names! I'm almost worse than Dark!" My smile widens as he continues. "I didn't have to pretend to be someone who I'm not that night. I was just natural, and happiness came to me."

"I'm glad," I say genuinely, eyes drifting back to the tallest tree.

"Anyway... what I'm saying is…" He stops. "Link." I meet his eyes again, and he resumes speaking. "Don't pretend. I know what you're going through, even though our situations are very different. My whole teenaged life, I tried to come off as this invincible, constantly-upbeat dude who wouldn't let anything bring him down."

I gaze at him with disheartened surprise. "You played that part well."

"I really did," he agrees with a downcast nod. "Nobody suspected how I really felt. I hated my life for a long time."

"I'm really sorry," I offer. "I should've helped—"

"See, that's exactly what I didn't want. Help. This is why we're similar, Link." He looks at me, summoning all seriousness his usually-goofy personality could muster. "You're trying so hard to be strong. We know how tough you have it, Link. Your uncle died! And because you and your detective are trying to put him in jail, you had to end things with the hottest girl in the school to keep her safe! You have awful luck. And we want to help you."

I nod slowly. "…I know."

"…You're seeing a weird side of me," he comments idly. "I'm sorry. But the least I'm asking of you is to just talk to us."

Gods, how Pipit has changed. Or perhaps he has always been this way but never chose to show it. He's right; we are similar. Everything he said is right. It saddens me to know that I'm not the only one going through internal pain. I don't want my friends going through that. Not at all.

But I suppose that's exactly how they feel about me.

"…Okay," I tell him. "I'll be there for you guys. Since you're all there for me."

He grins. "Awesome."

Once again, my gaze falls upon that stupid harp, and I huff dejectedly. "I can't even talk to her anymore," I find myself saying.

He narrows his eyebrows. "Who? Zelda?"

I nod weakly.

"Well, I mean," he pauses, thinking. "It's understandable why you had to end things. But it's understandable why she thinks you didn't have to. You know?"

"Yes."

"So I have a question. After the killer is in jail, and you're certain his gang won't be coming after you anymore, would you like to pick up where you left off?"

"…In a perfect world," I muse, "of course. But she won't forgive me. She might've already moved on."

"Then," he begins, pausing to bite his lip pensively, "give it time. Time heals everything, right?"

With a weak smile, I shrug, gaze falling to my feet. "Sure."

* * *

Saturday, December 1st

As thin blankets of snowfall have begun to rest upon the rooftops and the once-green grass below, so too have the monsters started to lurk about more frequently. And now that the M.O.D.'s forces are thinned to nearly nothing, Ganondorf could be cranking out additional monsters like a sweatshop. With more people staying indoors to huddle up in the warmth, scores of beasts and demons have taken the opportunity to come out of the shadows. Dark, who had been regularly journeying out into the city while I often chose to stay back, had even reported seeing a few monsters out in the daylight once in a while. Such news left me nervous, and I worried it would strike mass fear in the civilians if the discovery were to be made.

It's been two weeks since Dark and I broke into the mansion. I've called Vaati three times since then to check on the fate of Agahnim, still regretting giving him up to the Y.U.G.A., despite it being my only option. He didn't pick up.

Now that December has come, I only have twelve days to bring in the last free M.O.D. member, Zant, in order to complete my deal with Cia. On the thirteenth of November, I'd told Vaati I'd get them all within one month. That month is coming to a close. What would happen if I didn't finish my task? Would Cia and her gang turn on me and try to kill me, as well? It's likely. But I'm confident I'll get Zant by then, even if I've only seen or heard of him once.

"He's that skinny twat, right?" Dark had asked crudely when I spoke of him. "I'll go look."

And so Dark made a nightly habit of searching for Zant, while I decided to take some time off and try to ease my mind. Normally I'd feel bad for leaving my right-hand-man hanging like that, but every now and then he'd bring Midna, convincing her that they were simply going for walks. Therefore, I preferred to give the two some alone time. Dark would never tell Midna why he was always turning his head, looking around for something.

It will be a couple days before I join him in the search, but for the time being, I have some friends I need to reconnect with. All thanks to Pipit. Why does that feel weird to say?

* * *

**A/N: Good God, this was so hard to write. But I am certain that when I get into the plot-heavy chapters, it'll come easier.**

**This story is well over 2 years old as I'm updating this right now... wow. _"It wouldn't be so old if you just updated faster!"_ you say. I know. I suck.**

**Once again, I sincerely apologize for consistently letting you guys down.**

**On a more positive note, I love y'all. Thanks for bearing with me through update droughts and my forced writing. Honestly I've grown so much as a writer throughout this story. (It's blatant when you go back to some of the earlier chapters.)**

**We're currently at 352 reviews! My ultimate goal for this is 700-ish… (ohmyGodthatsalot) but that goal depends on the length of this story. We're halfway-ish there!**

**Again, thank you all!**

**~areallylazyandreallysorrySausageLink43**


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